


Wicked Thoughts Breed Black Hearts

by plastic_cello



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bucky is a crazy son of a bitch, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Psychological Torture, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-21 09:50:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 40,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plastic_cello/pseuds/plastic_cello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki Odinson never wanted any sort of notoriety, but being Tony Stark's lover came with unwanted attention.  Which ultimately led to a handsome but disturbed young man named Bucky Barnes taking him captive; in hopes of making him fall in love with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue :: Loki

**Author's Note:**

> I recently opened up prompts and I received this one (by far my favorite): AU. In which Bucky's a psycho who manages to kidnap Loki and wants to make him fall in love with him. (Maybe with a little Frostiron?)
> 
> So obviously this will be a fairly dark story, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! :)

* * *

 

**Prologue :: Loki**

 

* * *

 

Dust devil swept you away  
My recollections are all that's left of you  
Swirl and sway without me

  
**"Horizons"** \- Puscifer

 

* * *

 

Loki had never wanted to have any sort of notoriety. He had never wished to be recognized as he rode the tube, as he went to the grocery store, or even when he hailed a taxicab. But that was inevitably his life now; being spotted by unsuspecting photographers and gawked at by whoever happened to be within the vicinity. And it was all because of a high-profile scandal.

Despite the scandal having taken place almost two years ago, he was still stalked and questioned and prodded. Intimate questions were frequently on reporters' lips, while others merely asked for access to Tony Stark. The same Tony Stark whom had taken him as a lover, and who had kept him even when the public had become the wiser; after he had so heartlessly cheated on his former CEO and fiancée.

Loki had never wanted to become a pariah. He had simply followed his heart, even though in retrospect it was a poor way to go about it. Loving a man like Tony Stark had been a difficult feat to handle; made worse by the mutual attraction between them that had boiled over into a sexual relationship that was supposed to remain secret. Until, of course, someone had found out about it and reported it to the first newspaper publication that they could get in contact with.

The scandal had been nationwide news too. Every newspaper and cable news station had pounced on it; talking heads had discussed it as if they had any authority to do so. All of which predicted a fallout for Stark Industries, the rise of Miss Virginia Potts, and how Tony would essentially leave Loki at the wayside to become another Monica Lewinsky or Ashley Dupré.

Everyone had been convinced that Tony would leave him, and do whatever was in his power to win back his scorned fiancée. Loki had been especially worried about it as well; only to be proven wrong in the midst of the mudslinging and damage control that Stark Industries' PR department were knee deep in.

Tony had vowed on national television that he loved Loki, and they intended on staying with one another. Even when the stocks had taken a hit, when analysts spelled out disaster for the company; Tony had remained steadfast and true to his word.

They had withstood the scandal, the media criticism, and even the tell-all book by Miss Potts which had become a national bestseller. But more importantly, they had withstood their many contrasting differences and the many hateful words that they had oftentimes thrown at one another.

No matter the situation, they had proven themselves. They had been a united front, and Tony made sure that they broadcasted as such. Whenever they were out, they held hands and smiled widely for the cameras' benefits. They were affectionate and unafraid, regardless of the conservative commentary that tailed them too.

But that didn't make them faultless either; they still viciously fought with one another. One of them would frequently storm out, only to return the next morning with an apology on their lips. They still were human and capable of missteps and jealousies and innumerable faults; which was precisely why Loki had been out in the first place.

Had he not gotten into a loud argument with Tony early in the evening, he wouldn't have been hunched over a mahogany bar with a martini in hand. Nor would he have been spotted and identified by a brilliantly handsome gentleman, who had a smile to die for and the bluest eyes Loki had ever seen. And he most certainly wouldn't have accepted another martini from him either.

He should have been at home with Tony, and they should have continued the fight; only to make up with angry sex that would have left bruises on his hips and his inner thighs. Yet he had been with a stranger dubbed only as Bucky, whom spoke sweet and friendly words to him, and lured him into a trusting state.

That was ultimately his downfall. He had been a silly and trusting fool of a man; whom had wanted some sort of kindness, after the hateful words that spewed from his lover's mouth. He had simply wanted companionship and a shoulder to support him, as he drank far too much and complained openly about Tony.

It had been that way at first anyway, but slowly escalated into something else. Within only a few drinks, Loki had gotten uncharacteristically drunk; the sort of drunk he hadn't experienced since his first time drinking alcohol. So many of the details were murky once he came to, and it hardly seemed to matter then either. He had far greater things to consider.

Whatever happened the previous night, had led him to waking with a horrible headache; in a windowless room, devoid of any furniture. But there was a commode situated in the far corner that appeared to be fully functional from the fleeting glimpse he spared it.

He was stripped bear, beyond his black boxer briefs; the ones that Tony liked so much. The ones he frequently nuzzled against, and mouthed Loki's hardening erection through. The rest of his clothing was nowhere in sight; only a scratchy brown blanket was within arm's reach.

Terror seeped into hazy sleep-addled mind, but he found it impossible to stand; due mostly to the on-rush of nausea that he felt, and ultimately the weakness in his normally strong legs. He leaned heavily against the wall, and tried futilely to unearth any details from the previous night beyond the dispute between him and Tony, and his angry exit.

His drinking partner Bucky came to mind, of course. As did the hateful tirade he had gone on when discussing his lover; a tirade that he could never say a word about to the ones closest to him. Many of them were snugly placed in Tony's pocket, and found him to be messianic in many aspects of the word. So they refused to hear a negative word about him.

Parched and achy, Loki shut his eyes against the unforgiving fluorescent lights that beat down on him from above; and found he hadn't any answers for his current position. But he hadn't had to wait very long to find them either. He was spared further, unnecessary overthinking; since he knew his recollections would remain lost in the haze of alcohol.

Loki hadn't noticed the door perpendicular to him; his eyes only drew to it once it was pushed open to reveal his handsome drinking partner. Bucky smiled warmly at him, balancing a tray between his hands, as he pushed the door open with his shoulder. Once he was inside the room; the door swung shut with a deafening click that felt strangely final.

"You're awake." Bucky announced jovially, before he crouched down beside him and deposited the tray onto the unfinished cement floor.

"Where am I?" He peered down at the tray that had a pack of saltine crackers, two bottles of water, and few capsules of aspirin on it.

"Does that really matter? You're here now and you'll be staying here from now on."

"Pardon,"

"I bet you have a headache; so why don't you take these for the pain." Bucky uncapped one of the bottles of water, and then plucked up the aspirin between his thumb and forefinger. "Go on."

"What do you mean I'll be staying here from now on?" Loki pressed, feeling his heart speed up in his chest.

"Please take the aspirin, and then I'll be more than happy to explain. Otherwise, I'll have to go and leave you here alone; don't make me do that. I really don't want to." Bucky held out the aspirin to him, urged him to take them; which he did once he considered the alternative.

Loki popped the capsules into his mouth, before taking a swallow of lukewarm water from the bottle. Although, he ended up taking several more swallows to rid himself of the cottony feeling in his throat; and that seemed to be enough to appease Bucky.

"Good, you'll feel much better now." Bucky reached forward and traced his fingers gently across his cheek, making him shiver. "Like I said, you'll be staying here from now on. You'll be staying with me."

Another shiver ran violently through his body, once he realized what that meant. He was recognizable in a crowd of people, worse yet; he had openly spoken of Tony and given himself away even further. There was no doubt he was Loki Odinson, home wrecker, and lover of Tony Stark.

This was obviously a kidnapping; he'd been taken by someone who wanted money. But would Tony pay a ransom for him, a potentially hefty one at that? Or would he refuse to negotiate as he oftentimes refused to negotiate with business partners?

The topic had never come up before in casual conversation. Who would ever believe their thirty year old male lover would be taken captive anyway? Certainly neither Tony nor Loki for that matter; he thought he was capable of defending himself. He wasn't a wilted flower, after all; and yet here he was physically weak and emotionally raw.

"Listen, please." He swallowed down his mounting fear. "You know who my partner is; he'll pay you whatever you want. Just name a price and he'll have it to you without any questions asked. All you'll need to do is let me go and do me no harm, and Tony won't get the authorities involved. I promise you; name your price, any price."

Bucky leaned back onto his haunches, before he chuckled abruptly. Loki studied him from the brilliant blue of his eyes, to his nicely built body; he might not have been overly muscular, but he would be very hard to overpower if he attempted to get away. And Loki wasn't exactly in the best state to try and get away; not yet anyway.

"What do you take me for?" Bucky shot him an exasperated look. "You really think I'd want anything from that pompous, arrogant piece of shit?"

"This is about money, I know it is; he has plenty of money too."

"No, no!" Bucky suddenly leapt to his feet, and made Loki cower away. "This was never about money! It is about you and you're here! And you'll stay with me, and we'll be very happy together!"

"I don't understand, what do you mean?" Loki choked out.

"I saw how he treated you. Like a common whore, a prostitute." Bucky took in a deep, calming breath. "He never defended you when they said bad things about you. All over the news, they'd call you awful things and make you out to be the bad guy. But I knew better; you were, _are_ perfect. And I saved you from that piece of shit Stark; you won't have to worry about him anymore."

"You got it all wrong. He treats me very well; he loves me."

"Bull fucking shit! Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit!" Bucky exploded loudly. "That's bullshit and you know it! Don't you fucking lie to me! Don't you dare defend him!"

Before Loki could even articulate a sensible argument, Bucky strode across the room; cursing a colorful streak as he went. Within a matter of moments, he ripped open the heavy door and slipped out; which was punctuated by a slam and the obvious sound of several locks turning closed.

Shock overwhelmed Loki, although it soon gave birth to desperation so great; not even his compromised and sickly state could keep him pressed into a corner in a cower. He staggered onto his feet, and almost collided head-first with the door; but managed to keep his balance in the end.

"Please, open the door! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" He called out, as he twisted the door knob to no avail.

The door did not appear to be made of wood; it could have been metal, which made it impenetrable. Loki couldn't kick down a metal door; a wooden one would have been a challenge, but one he would willingly have taken up if need be.

"Bucky, please let me out of here! I'll do anything you want, but don't leave me in here!" Loki pounded his fists against the door until they ached, and undoubtedly would end up black and blue. "Let me out of here! Tony will give you anything you want! Anything in the world, just please let me go!"

Despite the ruckus he made, Bucky didn't come back. No matter the promises that he made in his desperation; he still couldn't sway his captor to return. Which only made him that much more hysterical, until he exhausted his voice 'til it was hoarse; and his knuckles split open from the constant pounding he delivered to the door.

He crumbled into a pile of uncoordinated limbs to the cold floor then, and allowed himself to sob in a tiny voice. One word escaped him like a prayer and he repeated it, as if that would somehow solve the horrible situation he landed himself in.

"Tony, Tony, Tony," he choked out. " _Save me_."


	2. Chapter One :: Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank everyone who commented on the prologue; I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. :)

* * *

 

**Chapter One :: Tony**

 

* * *

 

This wasn't right; this wasn't typical protocol. They had a system, dysfunctional as it may be; it was still a system and neither of them had gone against it beforehand. Regardless of the issue at hand, or how many expletives had been spewed in anger; they still followed a pattern. They never strayed from it once.

Typically when an argument arose between the two of them, it escalated from very stern words to hysterical accusations and insults; before either one of them would storm out in a fit. But come morning, the party whom had taken their leave would always come back home. Sometimes they would apologize, frequently they wouldn't. More often than less, they would have sex afterwards; and they would go about the day as if nothing had happened.

Today was different, though. Loki hadn't come back yet; didn't even telephone to say he'd gone to his parents' house in D. C. or to the East Village to stay with his elder brother. And he wasn't answering his phone either; no matter how many times Tony had called him since it hit nine o'clock.

"Where the _fuck_ are you?" Tony barked into the receiver. "It's a quarter past eleven, Loki! Call me back now! I swear to god!"

Drawing the phone away from his ear, he pressed a finger to the touch screen and ended the call. Which made him miss the days of landlines and corded receivers; at least then, he could slam down the receiver and show how infuriated and exasperated he truly was. And he preferred not to throw his mobile phone, since he had spent hundreds of hours perfecting the new prototype.

Tony refused to let Loki get the best of him; especially since he had been the one to instigate the argument in the first place, and vigilantly continued to poke and prod Tony until the inevitable occurred. They had screamed at one another for what felt like hours; going back and forth over why they were right, and why the other was wrong; until there was nothing more to say.

The argument had been a positively absurd one too. They had discussed the topic beforehand, and Loki knew exactly why he didn't want to get married. He, after all, had led his former fiancée on for five years; never waltzing down the aisle with her, before cheating on her with Loki in the end. But evidently, the many logical reasons why wedded matrimony was not his cup of tea meant little to nothing to Loki; who had some grandiose fantasy inside his head that the media would stop referring to him as a home wrecker and sex toy if they married.

Of course, that was only a portion of Loki's argument. The other was by far more sentimental; laced in romance and love and desperation for a permanent commitment. Tony understood why Loki wanted to get married, he really did; but his reasons for not proposing were various and logically based ones.

Regardless if they were to marry or not, Tony knew the bad publicity wasn't about to go away. It hadn't after two years, as they mingled and dined in New York's high society. They couldn't possibly donate any further to charity benefits, back up political candidates that would do the city, the state, or even the country good; without the media unearthing their past.

No one was bound to forget that Loki, who used to work in the PR department of Hammer Corp; had been seduced into bed by Tony, during some benefit gala or another. They weren't bound to forget how they had carried on their torrid love affair for close to three years, before someone had leaked the story to the press; and made Pepper Potts the scorned woman of the year.

The media had always loved Pepper, after all. While they were equally enamored with Tony; it was on a different level. Pepper was Stark Industries' sweetheart; she was business savvy, able, and smart as hell. She had a mind for business, which was precisely why Tony offered her the position from the get-go. Their romance only developed after she was sitting pretty as the head of the company; and everything crumbled to pieces, once everyone became the wiser about Tony's infidelity.

The once happy couple had then been reduced to enemies. Pepper had done everything in her power to slander Tony, but more importantly Loki. There were too many instances to count, and every single one had made Tony angrier and angrier; until he threatened legal action, and also to release a slew of personal videos that they had made during a vacation to Bermuda.

But the damage had already been done, and the media chose to stand firmly behind Pepper; who now worked for a rival company, although they were hardly a rival at all to Tony. Stark Industries had taken an initial hit due to the scandal, but they had recovered and were doing better than ever now.

That could potentially change, if Tony married Loki though. And it was a risk he wasn't willing to take; even if he knew without a doubt he loved Loki, and wanted to be with him for the rest of his life. Anyway he was perfectly content with how things were between them currently; well, aside from this obnoxious stunt Loki had pulled by not coming home.

Tony tossed his mobile phone to the coffee table, before he resumed his pacing of the room. Loki should have been home by eight o'clock; no matter how vicious their arguments were Loki was consistent on when he returned home. It was like clockwork, really; Tony had waited for him too, despite remaining incensed.

Regardless of how presumptuous it was, Tony had turned down the bed (since he hadn't slept in it, and chosen refuge in his workshop instead); and even gotten out the lube for the angry sex he suspected they would have. But when there hadn't been any sign of Loki almost an hour later; he had taken to sending haughty text messages, and eventually voice messages when Loki refused to take his calls.

Just as he had decided on telephoning Loki once more, the lift pinged in welcome. Tony swiveled on his heel, mouth open and ready to scream at his lover until his ears bled. Only his tirade died on his lips, once someone else stepped out of the lift; the only other someone who had authorization to the penthouse suite.

His best friend Rhodey was dressed in his military uniform; from what Tony collected (or remembered from the sparse telephone conversations between them), Rhodey had been in Washington D. C. and before then a base in Germany. And while Tony would normally be thrilled to see his best friend, this wasn't one of those times.

"Oh, it's you." He said irritably, before he reached for his discarded phone; finding that his anger was bound to boil over in a big way soon.

"Well, it's nice seeing you too." Rhodey returned, although it appeared as if he already caught onto the terse atmosphere.

Rhodey was an expert on him, after all. If anyone could read the climate of his emotions, it would most definitely be him. Then again, anyone with eyes and ears could tell something was amiss by how he snatched up his phone and jammed his fingers against the touch screen.

"What happened?"

"Loki happened." He scowled, as he pressed the phone to his ear; listening to every ring with mounting impatience.

As to be expected, the rings continued on and on; until it switched him to voice message. He took in a heavy breath, and tried to calm himself since Rhodey was now in earshot. But it proved to be a challenge, when all he wanted to do was chide Loki, and hurt him with a slew of unsavory words.

"You aren't proving your point by hiding, Loki. Come back home and we'll talk about it. Call me back." He disconnected the call then; glimpsing over at his best friend who perched himself onto the back of one of the many sofas in the lounge area.

"You had another fight."

"When do we not?"

"And he hasn't come back home yet. I imagine it was a pretty large fight then." Rhodey crossed his arms, but in no way appeared remotely judgmental.

When the entire world had turned their backs on Tony, Rhodey hadn't. Rhodey didn't care about the media and their interpretation of his relationship status. He also didn't care about anything that Pepper had spewed from interview to tell-all book.

No matter the circumstance, Rhodey had remained faithful to him. Hell, he had gotten Tony through some of the tougher times; especially when the company had taken a financial hit so severe, that recovery appeared to be only a fantasy. And he suspected it wouldn't be any different now either.

"He wants to get married and I don't." Tony admitted in a terse voice.

"Well, that's a pretty big disagreement."

"We've discussed it beforehand, you know. I already told him why I didn't want to get married, but he won't listen to reason. Now he won't answer his fucking phone; he should have been home by now."

"Tony, this isn't a normal argument." Rhodey looked thoughtfully towards the ceiling. "Something of this magnitude really isn't something you can ignore. I bet he just needs some time to think, consider things if you will."

Of course, Tony realized the magnitude of the fight once everything had been said and done. He would have to be an idiot not to realize it; yet he assumed Loki would come back, and they could somehow move past things. Because it really didn't change anything between them; they were still in a committed relationship and it wasn't about to change anytime soon.

They didn't need a piece of paper to validate their relationship. Tony had already declared his devotion to Loki after the scandal broke; had held a press conference that made the board members of his company cringe and beg him to cancel. That should have been enough of a commitment; it should have set Loki's mind at ease that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. But it clearly wasn't enough at all.

"So what should I do then?" He deflated, collapsing onto the top of the coffee table. "Just sit here with my thumb up my ass, and hope he'll come back."

"He needs his space, Tony. I'm sure he'll be back some time this evening. If not maybe the next day, but he has a lot to consider. And it'll be easier for him to do it without you breathing down his neck and influencing his choices."

"Why shouldn't I influence his choices? Especially if that means he'll decide I'm not good enough for him?"

"Listen, he obviously loves you. I doubt he'll just throw everything away between the two of you that quickly." Rhodey shot him a sympathetic look. "But quite frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if this puts a strain on your relationship; more so than the piranhas on the cable news already does."

"Which is exactly why we shouldn't let those fuckers win; I don't want to prove them right."

"That isn't the point; I know you know that."

"I don't want to think of a life without him, okay." Tony shut his eyes; refusing to even imagine what it would be like if he lost Loki over this.

Maybe marriage wouldn't be too bad; he did love Loki, after all. And he could only assume Loki would willingly sign a prenuptial agreement, if things happened to go awry later on. They could make things work somehow; Tony had faith in that, and yet he didn't want to be trapped in something he didn't want. If he agreed to marry Loki, what else would he be forced to give in to?

"You won't have to, so long as you're understanding and probably a bit more patient." Rhodey drew him back into the present. "I'm sure you two will figure something out; it'll just take some time. But until then, let him have today to himself."

"I'm so glad you aren't in Europe anymore. I would have probably done something stupid and call his brother and parents, and launch a full blown investigation on him."

"Nothing says I love you like a stalker-like mentality."

"I'll give him the day, but that's it." Tony then hauled himself onto his feet. "Come on, let's have breakfast; I think I can manage an omelet without the fire department being dispatched."

Despite agreeing to allow Loki have a day of solitude; that didn't stop Tony from pocketing his mobile phone, in hopes that he could get in touch of him before the evening came. He was still raw and angry, but more than anything – he already missed Loki. And he wanted nothing more than to see him as soon as possible.


	3. Chapter Two :: Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can only say Bucky is psychotic. And even though I don't even want to say this, I feel I need to - if you think this story will end up being Winterfrost as opposed to Frostiron at the end...well, you really need to reconsider the whole captor/captive relationship.

* * *

**Chapter Two :: Bucky**

* * *

You'll be given love  
You'll be taken care of  
You'll be given love  
You have to trust it

Maybe not from the sources  
You have poured yours  
Maybe not from the directions  
You are staring at

**"All is Full of Love"** \- Björk

* * *

Concentration proved to be a tough feat for Bucky. His eyes stared blindly at the computer screen in front of him, but had yet to absorb any of the data that he should have. Of course, he had some time before his project would be due; and his client had always given him leeway for the best possible result that he could manage.

Even so, he wished he could focus on work instead of the solid industry door across the room; one that he had installed almost four months beforehand, in hopes of procuring the person now in his care. He had finally made his fantasies come true, after so many years of pining over cable television shows and buying every periodical that was within reach. He had finally gotten Loki Odinson in his possession.

The first time he had laid eyes upon Loki had been around the same time that everyone in the civilized world had. His likeness had been splashed across every front page, every glossy magazine cover, and every news broadcast in America and beyond. And while Bucky couldn't say it was love at first sight, he could certainly admit to being stricken; stricken by Loki's pale skin and inky black hair, and the self-assured way he carried himself.

No matter the circumstance, Loki had always held himself with dignity. He could always push through a wall of photographers and snide reporters, and look unaffected and almost cold. But there was a smidgen of fragility behind the mask; Bucky had noticed it once or twice, as his television had been bombarded by the scandal that rocked Stark Industries. And that only served to intrigue him about the pale, lanky man whom had earned the public's scorn, and who had almost destroyed Stark Industries by his involvement with Tony Stark.

Curiosity had inevitably led Bucky towards obsession; he had absorbed every detail of the scandal like some gossiping old hen, and with every detail uncovered, he had been convinced that Loki was a victim of his circumstance. Loki had been lured into bed by the well-renowned playboy billionaire; who only attempted to save face by announcing to the public that he loved him once the damage had already been done.

It had been an elaborately staged ruse, which only proved to infuriate Bucky. Some way or another, beyond any reasonable control on his part; he had found himself siding with Loki, and inevitably falling in love with him. That was why he had chosen to build the safe room in his apartment in the first place, because he knew his advances were bound to be brushed away, unless he showed how serious he truly was; and he was very serious about his feelings for Loki.

His stay in the safe room was only temporary, though; Loki would come to love him as much as Bucky loved him soon enough. It would only take some time for Loki to realize it; once he got the stupid notion out of his head that Tony Stark cared a lick about him. Hell, the bastard had probably already moved on once Loki was out of his sight; there were enough reports of his sordid affairs to fill a book the size of a dictionary, after all.

Pushing away from his desk, Bucky scowled at nothing in particular. He always hated to think of Tony Stark in any shape or form; made worse only by the fact that he had taken advantage of Loki for all those years. But now things were different; he had Loki all to himself and he would treat him like the king he truly was.

He knew it would be impossible to even attempt to work now; especially since his thoughts continued to swirl back towards Loki, whom he hadn't visited in several hours. He had been much too angry to stay longer than a few minutes with how he vigilantly defended Stark without any prompting to. And honestly that had only infuriated him, to the point where he had stormed out and accomplished very little work in those brief hours.

Regardless of his anger with the situation, Bucky really couldn't stay away from Loki. He had finally gotten him in the same vicinity, without any interruptions from outside sources. There wasn't anyone keeping them apart aside from his own stubbornness, and he couldn't justify remaining away from him any longer.

Bucky climbed onto his feet, before he grabbed the keys that would open the door. After he had initially left Loki to his own advices; he had heard him bang on the door for close to fifteen minutes, while simultaneously begging for him not to leave him alone. He had almost caved more than once, but had chosen not to give into Loki; lest he prove how weak he really was when it came to him.

The designated office space was only a few feet away from the heavy door; it only took moments to approach, and a few more to unlock every lock he had put in place. Once he had unlocked the door, Bucky slowly pulled it open to look inside the room barren of anything beyond the working commode in the corner.

Luxury items weren't exactly essential, and Bucky would only be too happy to provide them once he knew Loki would be on his best behavior. He wasn't a stupid man, after all; he knew Loki would be disagreeable until he realized just how devoted Bucky truly was to him. No less, how bad Tony Stark was for him as well.

Cautiously, Bucky stepped into the room and caught sight of Loki cowered in the corner with a bloody knuckle to his lips. His eyes widened at Bucky's arrival, but he didn't make any move in an attempt to overpower him and flee. That wouldn't end very well for him; Bucky really didn't want to have to carry the taser gun with him that he purchased recently.

"Have you calmed down now?" Bucky asked in a non-threatening tone. "You made a fairly loud ruckus a few hours ago."

"When will you let me go?" Loki pressed his bloody knuckle to his mouth again.

"Like I told you before, you'll be staying here from now on."

"So you intend on keeping me here forever; in a windowless white room all alone."

"That's entirely up to you, you know." Bucky eased the door closed behind him, before looping the key ring into the belt loops of his jeans; which would make it that much harder for Loki to try and get them away from him.

"Entirely up to me," Loki repeated slowly. "In other words if I'm on my very best behavior, you'll let me out of here. But then what? You won't let me go, that much is clear; regardless of the fact that Tony will pay you whatever price you want. Rest assured he isn't a frugal man."

Bucky offered Loki a smile, despite the fact that he wanted to scream himself hoarse in response to that. He had already told Loki it hadn't had anything to do with money. It wasn't as if he was living in poverty, and he hadn't any grandiose fantasies of riches and fame. He lived a comfortable life and was able to provide for himself quite nicely.

The only thing he wanted from this exchange was Loki. He wanted everything that the other man had to offer and more. He also knew that he could make Loki happy; happier than all the money in the world could.

"Money was never the incentive, I told you that already." He took several steps forward, and lifted his hands to show Loki he didn't mean him any harm.

"Then what is your incentive, _Bucky_?" Loki spat out his name as if it were venom.

"I always admired you; truly." He crouched down an arm's length away, but he wanted nothing more than to cross the distance between them and kiss Loki's bloody knuckles. "And it's pretty clear to me that you've been under appreciated by everyone around you. I'd never let anyone say a bad word about you, you know; if I had all that power like _he_ has, you could bet I'd use it."

The many unsavory comments he had read and heard about Loki suddenly flooded to the forefront of his mind. There were too many of them to count, but all of them were hurtful and hateful. Conservative news commentators had been especially brutal about Loki, and Bucky wanted nothing more than kill every single one of them.

It wasn't like he hadn't killed before either. The only difference was that the army had put the gun in his hand, and sent him off to the Afghani desert to do it. Which certainly had a way of changing one's perspective about life and death; Steve had claimed he must have suffered from some sort of PTSD, because he hadn't come back the same. But honestly who really would?

"Admiration is one thing, but this is something entirely different." Loki deflated under his gaze.

"You're right; admiration's a completely different ballgame." He smiled wider, and then leaned in to grab one of Loki's injured hands. "This is love, Loki."

Before Loki could attempt to pull his hand away, Bucky pressed his lips against the broken skin and inhaled the coopery scent of blood. He flicked his tongue out to taste it, and couldn't control the shudder that ripped through his body. Not to mention the sudden warmth that pooled in the pit of his stomach; although he drew away quickly, once he felt Loki try and rip his hand free.

"You're mad; bloody insane!" Loki pulled his hand protectively to his chest, once it was wrenched free of his grasp. "When Tony finds you, and trust me that he will, he'll ruin you! He'll destroy you bit by miserable bit, and make you regret the day you were born!"

"See I don't envision it happening like that at all." Bucky chuckled. "You know how I envision this going? It'll end up with just you and me, and we're going to be incredibly happy together."

"That'll never happen!"

"Do you even think Stark notices you're gone? Does he even care that you're gone at all? Because of how you made it sound last night, the fucker didn't appreciate you at all! He wouldn't even commit to you fully; he just wanted to keep you as the pretty sex toy for the rest of your life! Well, until you stopped being pretty and he found someone younger and prettier!"

"He loves me!" Loki yelled so loudly that the veins in his neck protruded and his skin flushed. "He loves me with all his heart! What you feel for me is nothing but delusional and unhealthy! You should be locked away, where you cannot hurt anyone ever again!"

Even though, he wished to hold his temper; Bucky felt his restraint snap in two. He wasn't the bad guy in this situation, after all; Stark was the one to blame for ruining Loki's life. Stark had idly stood by as the media called him home wrecker, a whore, and various other uncouth names. And it was Stark who ultimately caused the world to besmear him.

Bucky jerked back onto his feet, so quickly that Loki flinched away from him. But the damage had already been done; he had only tried to be nice, and Loki decided to spit all over it. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him, and he would be damned if anyone said anything otherwise.

"Has anyone told you that you're the unhealthy one here?!" He seethed. "Why else would you put yourself in a position of constant abuse by a man who clearly thinks you're worthless? You obviously like being hurt and abused, when I, I want to love you! I would treat you the way you deserve to be treated! I will worship the very ground you walk on! Stark only fucks you for the fun of it, when I would do anything it took to please you; whatever it might be!"

"Then let me go, please!" Loki lurched onto his knees, and tried to reach for him; but he stepped backwards. "If you love me like you say you do, you'll let me go! And I promise no one will ever know about this! I won't tell a soul; not a single person, not even Tony!"

"No! No, you'll stay with me until you love me!" Bucky roared; before he swiveled on his heel and yanked open the door.

"Don't leave me in here, Bucky! No!"

"You'll stay in here until you learn that I'm the one who loves you! Not Stark, not anybody else; only me,"

"Please, don't go!" Loki scrambled on his hands and knees towards him; although Bucky was much too angry to take sympathy on him.

Without any parting word, Bucky stepped out of the room, slamming the door closed, and speedily turning every lock to secure the door shut. He didn't even falter by the howl of desperation that Loki made on the other side, and the rhythmic pounding of his fists on the door. After all, Loki had brought it onto himself for what he had said.

Maybe a few more hours without any human contact would do him some good. Bucky could only hope that he might behave more befitting of someone, who appeared to be cultured and well-read. But even if he decided to be on his best behavior, Bucky realized it would be beneficial to bring along the taser gun; whenever he chose to visit again. And if push came to shove, he would chain him up too.

He didn't want to be cruel, but if he had to; well so be it.


	4. Chapter Three :: Thor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People probably legitimately hate me for focusing on this story now. I have no regrets.

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**Chapter Three :: Thor**

 

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The shrill sound of his mobile phone woke Thor with a start. He blearily opened his eyes and found the room still blanketed in darkness, beyond the glowing touch screen on the bedside table. The body next to him began to stir too, which inspired him to roll onto his side and to grab the phone before Sif woke with a choice number of expletives on her lips.

He reached for his phone, half-convinced that it was a wrong number. It wouldn't be the first time that it had happened, and he imagined it wouldn't be the last one either. So he was slightly surprised, to say the least, to see that it was someone he knew; more specifically Tony, whom was involved with his younger brother Loki. And that proved to be a point of contention, if he were to be perfectly honest.

Like everyone in the civilized world, Thor had learned about Loki's affair with the infamous Tony Stark through the media. The bombardment of grainy black and white photos, and testimonials from Stark's former personal assistant had been his introduction to the romance; although romance appeared to be a stretch of the word at times.

Honestly, Thor had been relatively incensed by the information. He certainly hadn't expected Loki to be forthcoming with the details of his personal life; but he had hoped for something different for his younger brother. And that didn't include being maimed by the media, who had an ongoing love affair with Stark's ex-fiancée; and led to some very unsavory things being tossed about by idiot reporters about Loki on a regular basis.

"Hello," Thor said into the phone, once it was in his possession.

"Thor, buddy it's me; it's Tony." Tony returned in an unnecessarily loud voice.

"I gathered as much; Stark, it's almost three-thirty in the morning." He rolled onto his back again, before passing a hand over his eyes. "I really hope you have a good reason for telephoning me at this hour. Unlike you, some of us must be up at a decent hour for our jobs."

"I want to talk to Loki. I don't care what he says; wake him up and make him talk to me." Tony demanded in a tone Thor frequently heard while he dealt with the press.

But it took several moments for the message to make any sense; Thor opened his eyes, despite the darkness in the room, and tried to think of something to say. He was never at his best when he first woke up; Loki, while a very grumpy person in the morning, still managed to retain his brain functionality. Thor hadn't been so lucky in that respect, though.

"Why would my brother be here? Shouldn't he be with you?" He asked; only to hear an expletive on the other line.

"I haven't seen him in over a day! He stormed out after an argument and hasn't come back yet!"

"My brother has a terrible temper, you know that."

"Oh, I know that all too well. But he has never stayed away from home for more than a night; this isn't like him at all, Thor." Tony ground out; panic evident in his voice.

That statement only served to wake Thor up further than anything else had. If there was one thing he knew without a doubt about Loki was that he was consistent and reliable. Even when he was incensed by something, he never strayed from his patterns. So if Tony said that Loki always returned home after a spat, and didn't stay away for longer than a night; then there was cause for concern.

"He must have gone to D. C. to see your folks. He had to; that's the only other place he'd go. Either your place or your parents; he doesn't have any close friends. Not ones he would hide out with from me anyway."

"I spoke to my mother this evening; she didn't mention Loki being there. If he was, she would have said as much." Thor murmured, although he felt a cold shot of dread form in the pit of his stomach.

But he couldn't bring himself to panic just yet; there had to be a logical explanation why Loki hadn't gone back to Tony yet. Loki always conducted himself with some sort of purpose in mind; he oftentimes did things that seemed ludicrous at first glance, only to make sense in the end. This was probably no different; it couldn't be any different.

Thor refused to think of the alternative, especially since Tony seemed to have already drawn to that conclusion; if the hurried breaths across the line were anything to go by. Another expletive dropped from Tony's lips too; strained and desperate, almost on the verge of tears even.

"Tony, I'm sure there's a logical reason behind this."

"Where could he be then? Where on god's green earth could Loki be, if he isn't with you or your parents?" Tony laughed mirthlessly. "He doesn't have any good friends like I said; you know that as much as I do. And there hasn't been any activity on his credit card; I know, I checked before I called. So he isn't at some hotel cooling off; he isn't _anywhere_ , Thor."

Despite knowing Loki for the majority of his life, Thor couldn't really give an alternative location where Tony could search for him. Ever since the scandal had been revealed, Loki had become even more cautious about where he went and how he spent his time. He couldn't live in anonymity any longer; hell, he couldn't walk down the street without being bombarded by inappropriate questions and never-ending snickers.

In the end, Loki had had to move into the security of Stark Tower; since his apartment had become a prime stomping ground for multiple news outlets, which were all rallied behind Virginia Potts. Thor had suggested that Loki move away from the city for a while until things had sufficiently quieted down some; he had even suggested that Loki return to London where they had grown up, which would serve as a safe haven for him.

Except Loki only worsened the situation by moving in with Tony; but that didn't seem to matter to his hardheaded little brother either. Loki did what he wanted, even if it hurt him in the end; and Thor knew how much internal grief Loki carried around with him due to the scandal, even if he refused to acknowledge it.

"You need to calm yourself, Tony." Thor said in an even tone; only to glance beside him to see Sif roll onto her side, now half-awake from the ongoing telephone conversation. "It won't do you any good to panic just yet."

"Then you need to call him and if he doesn't answer, then something's seriously wrong." Tony demanded, leaving no room for argument; although Thor had already planned on ringing Loki anyway.

"I'll call him; I'm sure this is just a big misunderstanding."

"He's cruel, but he wouldn't punish me like this. Even though, he was pissed off at me; colossally pissed off too, he wouldn't do this. I know him better than that."

"What did you fight about?"

"Jesus Christ, why does that matter? Something's fucking wrong, Thor! I don't care if we were fighting about the British royal family; he wouldn't do this to me!" Tony bellowed so loudly that Thor had to pull the phone away from his ear; in order to save himself from potential hearing loss. "He wouldn't take off for a day and not answer my calls!"

"I'll telephone him right now then." He replied, once he was sure Tony wouldn't continue further in his panic addled tirade.

"Call me back if you get a hold of him. If you haven't, I'm calling the police. No, I'm going down to the closest precinct personally."

"I'll call you back, I promise." He ended the call then, and let out the heavy sigh he'd been holding in for the past few moments.

While he ultimately hoped things would be resolved easily, Thor couldn't help but think otherwise. He was never pessimistic, but something told him something was very wrong. Since this wasn't like his brother at all, and he also knew that Loki wouldn't withhold any information from Tony either.

"Loki's missing, I think." Thor shot his fiancée a weary look. "That was Stark."

Before Sif could reply, Thor had already focused his attention on his mobile phone once more. He scrolled through his contact list, until he came to a stop on Loki's name that appeared oddly vibrant on the screen; and yet something continued to gnaw at him. He somehow already knew that he wouldn't get a reply from his brother.

Even so, it didn't stop him from connecting the call anyway. He pressed the phone to his ear and listened to the monotone hum of the ringtone. It seemed to go on for hours, as opposed to only a few moments; although he couldn't say he was surprised when he was forwarded to Loki's voice mail either. He had known he would be, after all.

"Loki, it's Thor; please call me as soon as you get this message. I need to know you are all right; Stark has called and said you've been missing for a day now. And I hate to say this, but I have a bad feeling about this; so please ease my mind and call me back as soon as you can." Thor closed the call then, and felt that knot of dread twist painfully in his gut.

Slowly he sat up and pressed his back to the headboard; he didn't want to think of the many things that could have happened to Loki, and yet his mind unhelpfully provided many of them for him to ponder over. There were accidents a plenty; maybe Loki had stepped off of a curb and was struck by a passing car. Or maybe he had drunkenly fallen from a great height and broken every bone in his body.

Then there were even worse things than that; everyone undoubtedly knew Loki's face by now. He couldn't go anywhere without being spotted and recognized; so maybe someone had picked him out and targeted him and beat him bloody due to his sexuality or even a random robbery.

But the worst case scenario was something too horrifying to think of. Loki could very well be dead; dead from being hit by a car, having fallen from a great height, or having been beaten to death. His younger brother could potentially be out there lying in a gutter somewhere; dead and undiscovered of yet.

"Let me call, Tony." Sif had followed his example and sat up, but sounded as reasonable as she always did. "You're in no condition to tell him the bad news."

"What if he's dead?" He blurted out, as he relinquished his phone to her.

"Don't jump to conclusions, Thor. It is almost four in the morning; he might be sleeping right now."

"But what if he is dead?"

"Then we'll find out whoever did it and make them pay." Sif sighed, but there was a serious edge to her voice that couldn't be denied.

Thor didn't reply, though. He was too consumed by his bout of worrying to say anything worthwhile. So instead he climbed out of bed, and switched on the bedside lamp; if Tony was going to the authorities about Loki, he was going too.


	5. Chapter Four :: Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for all the lovely comments on the previous chapter; I appreciate all the kind words! And I hope you enjoy this chapter too! :)

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**Chapter Four :: Steve**

 

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It had been a tough forty-eight hours; Steve had been running on only three hours of sleep, a belly full of coffee, and undiluted adrenaline from the stake-out, arrest, and interrogation of a suspect accused of brutally killing his girlfriend and her sister. So he was looking forward to going home and getting a full night's rest, if he was lucky. But that hadn't happened in some time; not since he joined the homicide unit four years earlier.

And he suspected it would be a cold day in hell, before he found himself well-rested again. It was no wonder that not many people could remain in homicide beyond a few years. It wore you down both physically and mentally, and sucked away any joy that you might potentially have.

Even so, Steve hadn't any plans to quit anytime soon. There was too much that he still wanted accomplish as a homicide detective; too many unsolved crimes for him to swap professions for a far more leisurely life.

He had considered it beforehand, though; especially since he had toyed with the idea of moving to England to join his long-time girlfriend Peggy. She had been transferred back to her home country over a year ago, due to her career; which had ultimately put a strain on their relationship, although both of them were determined to make it work nonetheless.

But his job had kept him anchored to the city still; as did his best friend Bucky, whom he had known since they were both pre-teens and orphans. Bucky was the closest thing he had to family, and it would be a huge betrayal if he left him behind; particularly now too, when he was so unwell.

Peggy understood as much, and was very sensitive about Bucky's hardships. Her father had been in the military and had suffered some traumatic problems after the fact. Which had led them to discussing the possibility (if only briefly) of having Bucky join them in England; where they could build-up their makeshift family together.

It had been a stellar idea too; Steve had wanted nothing more than to have a fresh start. He had even gotten close to asking Bucky about his thoughts on the matter; until he had been plunged head-first into a bloody and violent murder spree that had taken priority over his own wants.

"I'm heading out now." He called out to his partner Clint, who was in the middle of shrugging on his jacket too.

"Care for a drink? You know for catching the son of a bitch."

"I don't know; aren't you tired?"

"You know as well as I do, that I won't be able to sleep without a couple brewskies in my system." Clint flipped his collar, before he fell into step with Steve as they strode out of the squad room and down the lime-colored hallway.

Steve knew that and could relate to it too. There were some cases that just ripped you apart from the inside-out. Butchered children were one of the things that always got to him; hell, it would get to anyone. Even the most seasoned of detectives was affected by that, though.

"Maybe one drink; I still need to drive down to Brooklyn. And I want to check up on Bucky too."

"How is your scrappy little friend doing?"

"It depends on the day, really." Steve furrowed his brow. "I saw him a week ago, and he seemed to be okay. But the next day he wouldn't even answer my calls."

Ever since Bucky had returned from his second tour in Afghanistan, he hadn't been the same guy he once was. Steve had always remembered Bucky to be brilliant and ambitious and charming as hell. Anyone and everyone seemed to have a fondness for him, and they still did to an extent (on his good days anyway). But things had changed him; things he had done had made him oftentimes broody, depressed, and quick to anger.

Peggy had once dubbed as Bucky as delusional too. She never elaborated on why she said that, but it had always bothered Steve to an extent. Since he hadn't necessarily seen anything that would really be described as delusional; but then again, he also was married to his work and frequently overlooked important details in his personal life.

"And he still won't go see a therapist?" Clint halted beside the elevator, and pressed the down button.

"He refuses to, even though I suggested it as recently as two weeks ago." He bit down onto his bottom lip in thought. "Ever since he'd gotten back a couple years ago, he's gotten worse and worse. He doesn't even leave his apartment very much anymore; especially now that he works from home."

"Pretty tough,"

"I, at least, tried to convince him to leave that old apartment building and move in with me. He practically lives there alone; aside from another tenant who lives on the top floor. The landlord moved out earlier this year."

"It's kind of sad. The government sends all these guys overseas, and when they're broken like that; well, they just abandon them." Clint stepped into the lift, once the doors rolled open.

Steve followed him inside too, murmuring in agreement. He too had joined the military alongside Bucky, but he had been sent to Italy to serve. And he only lasted two years of service, before he was honorably discharged and then went to the police academy. Whereas Bucky had served for almost nine years, before he chose to leave; although his mental duress was inevitably the cause behind it.

No matter how frequently Steve attempted to console Bucky about the things he had seen and the things he had done while out on the field; he would almost immediately shut down. It made sense, though; and Steve tried very hard not to step on any toes if he could help it. He didn't want to isolate Bucky any more than he already was.

The elevator ride was relatively quiet; the many aches and pains of the day seemed to bore heavily down onto his shoulders then. His head felt stuffed to its capacity too; since he had the awful task of trying to crack their suspect, by reviewing the substantial information they had on him. And that hadn't been very much fun either; considering he had to review every gory detail for their suspect, while also attempting to make him open up about it.

He had spent almost five hours in the interrogation room; mostly because the prep refused to speak with Clint at all, who was known for his bad cop routine. Steve, on the other hand, was more comfortable with the good cop bit; although he found he was versatile and could play either one if need be.

Once the elevator drew to a jumpy halt, Clint led the way onto the ground floor that was still bustling with activity despite it being almost four-thirty in the morning. Fellow officers escorted their arrestees from that evening towards the holding cells, while others were trying to fight their way out the doors after their late night shifts.

Despite the late hour, the bar that most of them occupied would still be open, since an ex-detective owned it and knew sometimes they needed a few beers in their systems after impossibly long nights. Steve followed Clint only so far to the exit, before he saw a very familiar face at the front desk, causing a very loud ruckus.

"Clint, is that who I think it is?" He called to his partner, and poked him between the shoulder blades to ensure he got his attention. "Is that Tony Stark?"

"Tony Stark, where," Clint turned around, until he was facing the front desk too.

"That's him, isn't it?"

"I'll be damned, it is. I wonder why he'd be here; maybe his boy toy stole off with the private jet and the personal trainer." His partner snorted rudely, but remained rooted in place.

Steve, however, chose to make his way over to see what the problem was. Curiosity was what clearly dictated his actions; also the obvious distress that the poor cop stuck with desk duty was being subjected to, which was an unsavory litany of expletives and _oh my god_ s.

"Is there a problem here, gentlemen?" Steve asked, hardly caring how corny that sounded; as if he was in a bad cop film from the eighties. Or maybe a sheriff from a spaghetti western even.

The desk officer, whose name eluded him at the moment, shot him an exasperated look. But he hadn't the opportunity to explain the situation; not when Tony Stark, whipped around to stare at him with wide, angry eyes. His usual cool persona that he flashed to the public was nowhere in sight; replaced instead by a flushed face and shaking hands.

"Oh there is a problem, a huge fucking problem!" Tony Stark roared. "I demand to speak to whoever's in charge right now!"

"My apologies Mr. Stark, but you'll have a hard time finding the chief of police at four-thirty in the morning." Steve smiled apologetically at the incensed billionaire, whose likeness was regularly splashed across both newspapers and television screens.

"Well, maybe you can help me because this fucker won't!" The billionaire practically snarled at the desk cop.

"I'll try my best, Mr. Stark."

"I want to file a missing person's report, and this asshole belittled me every step of the way! I know there isn't any grace period that I have to wait! And I want to file one right now!"

"Well, that is true; there isn't any grace period." Steve eyed the desk officer, before he turned his gaze back onto the billionaire. "Why don't you tell me what happened, and maybe I could help with the process."

Tony Stark looked like he might explode once more. His face reddened significantly and his eyes narrowed into tiny, threatening slits. Steve, however, wasn't taken aback by the reaction; he knew Tony must have been under significant stress, as all people were when a loved one went missing. And if he hadn't been properly helped then that would only make things worse.

Thankfully, there wasn't any further outbursts; instead Tony took in several slow and steady breaths, and calmed down somewhat. But who knew how long that would last; since even if Steve helped him file a report, that wouldn't fix the situation anyway.

"My _partner_ hasn't come home in over a day. That isn't like him at all, and he hasn't answered any of his telephone calls either. Not from me or even his brother, who when he gets here will break your fucking face!" Tony barked at the desk cop, before lowering his voice again. "He doesn't have any close friends that he would bunk with. And he hasn't gone to his brother's or even his parents' house. I made sure to check and see if he used either his checking account or his credit card, which he hasn't since the day before he disappeared."

Of course, Steve could easily draw to a conclusion just who Tony was referring to. Loki Odinson had become a permanent fixture on every newspaper and TV screen in the tri-state area. Coupled with the fact that Tony was so visible and dragged Loki along, made it impossible not to know him; but it really didn't matter who it was, only that they were missing.

"When was the last time you saw him?" Clint suddenly approached and interjected in his no-nonsense tone.

"Wednesday night, maybe around eight o'clock," Tony passed a hand over his face. "We got into an argument and he stormed out; it's typical, really. One of us storms out, and then the next morning we come back. Two years and that's never changed, so I know something's wrong."

"There's no way he would just stay away? Maybe he went to cool off." Clint crossed his arms, although in no way dismissive. "Depending, of course, on the argument,"

Tony narrowed his eyes again, as if the nature of the argument was too intimate to share. Even though, they were only trying to help him in the long run. Steve realized Tony's desire to keep his private affairs under wraps; yet it was crucial to any investigation in the long run. But Steve didn't want to push Tony any further than he had to, especially since he was already on the brink of a complete emotional meltdown.

"I think we have enough information at this point. Get us a missing person report for Mr. Stark to fill out; I'm sure someone from that unit will be able to help him from there. Seeing as that isn't exactly our field of expertise." Steve told the desk cop, who looked as if they betrayed him by entertaining Tony's concerns.

But it was obviously the right thing to do; regardless if you were a fan of Tony Stark or not. The man was in a panic about his missing partner, and that was enough to make anyone verbally abusive, particularly if he was being made to wait or being denied some form of comfort.

"Thank you, I appreciate it." Tony forced a weary smile onto his face. "And you are…?"

"Detective Clint Barton,"

"Steve Rogers,"

"I owe you one; name it and it's yours."

"That isn't necessary, Mr. Stark." Steve answered, cutting off Clint from asking for anything unnecessary and undoubtedly gaudy; which he couldn't ethically accept anyway. "Here's hoping for the best."

Steve motioned for Clint to follow him, before they could involve themselves further in Tony Stark's affairs. That was just another unnecessary burden that would keep them awake at night; Steve couldn't help it, though. He had a sympathetic soul, and he couldn't possibly imagine what it would feel like if Peggy disappeared on him like that.

What's more, his job had only soured his optimism. So his first reaction to the news of Loki Odinson's disappearance was his truest; he could only imagine that something terrible had happened to someone so high profile. Just how terrible was up for interpretation, but he highly doubted that anything would be resolved anytime soon.

Steve hated that about himself too; his pessimism was poisonous but realistic. And he suspected Loki Odinson was in a very bad place just about now.


	6. Chapter Five :: Loki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came to me pretty easily; I don't know why I love such dark stories, but they are definitely a lot of fun to write! :)

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**Chapter Five :: Loki**

 

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His thoughts always returned to Tony. No matter how far they roamed, how distant one point seemed from another; everything dwindled back to Tony. Loki frequently returned to their first meeting at some charity gala, when he had only been in the PR department of Hammer Corp for less than two years.

He'd been green then; staunch and purely business oriented, and had a knack for following Justin Hammer everywhere he went. That evening hadn't been any different; Loki had been beside Justin for the greater portion of the night, and stood by as his then boss had jested and conversed with his colleagues, competitors, and socialites alike.

No one had paid Loki any mind, beyond the initial introductions. He had simply blended into the background; a shadow far too tall and dark to truly be Justin's, but a shadow nonetheless. That was until Tony had come along; late and randy and loath to speak to his supposed rival, even for good publicity.

Justin had been the one to find Tony, who had been brilliantly dressed in a traditional tuxedo with one hand occupied by a tumbler of scotch; while the other had been plucking at the spaghetti strap of Miss Potts's dress. It had been in that moment, in the blink of an eye, that Loki's life forever changed unbeknownst to even him.

Tony had been decent enough in conversation, had graciously taken Loki's hand in a firm but lingering handshake; before they parted ways once more. Only Tony had followed him with his eyes wherever Loki had gone that evening; he felt that heavy stare between his shoulder blades, in the back of his head. Everywhere he went, Tony's eyes followed until they met again in the bathroom.

Despite the many years that passed, Loki remembered that encounter best of all. He remembered the smell of whiskey on Tony's breath; the wildfire of his eyes that were so wanton and hungry, and the firmness of his hand as it slid down in his back almost good naturedly. But more than all those details combined, Loki remembered the raspy, seductive tone in which Tony spoke with.

"Fancy meeting you in here, bright eyes," Loki uttered aloud to the empty room, and felt his heart sink that he couldn't emulate Tony's voice; which would have been a welcome comfort.

His memories could only distract him for so long from his current predicament. It was hard to ignore the overhead fluorescent lights, or the tidy white walls without any windows carved into them. And then there was the heavy, _unmoving_ door that hadn't been open in so very long.

The last time it had been, a tray had been shoved across the floor; bearing some dry oatmeal, several pieces of fruit (a banana, two apples, and a pear), and a few bottles of water. But Bucky hadn't greeted him, talked his delusional babble, or even acknowledge his existence. He had just left him without a word; left him to fend for himself in the maelstrom of his own thoughts.

It was worse than he imagined too. For being someone dubbed as narcissistic, Loki found his own company under such stressful terms to be too painful to endure. Bucky's company would have been a welcome distraction from the many horrible thoughts he conjured up in his mind; all of which seemed to point toward his imminent doom.

"I'll be dead soon." He said aloud, even if his voice served very little in terms of comfort. "I'll never see you again, Tony. I'll never be able to apologize for my behavior, and tell you one last time that I love you. That I never hated you one bit, no matter how many times I said it to your face, I never meant a word of it."

The argument slowly ebbed back into the forefront of his mind. He had said so many awful things to Tony, as if that would sway him towards his cause. Tony wouldn't budge, though; he refused to marry Loki, and had a laundry list of reasons why it was ill-advised and potentially fatal to Stark Industries that had only begun to recover from the scandal.

In hindsight, Loki understood why Tony wouldn't marry him. It had been an irrational idea from the get-go, and yet he desired nothing more than to solidify his relationship with Tony. That had been the reason behind his argument, the key point anyway.

There had been other reasons, self-serving ones about quieting the hubbub that originated from the media. Since he was still dubbed as a home wrecker, gold digger, and a slew of other unsavory titles that didn't describe him appropriately at all; and he believed marriage would silence much of that negativity. Tony, however, didn't believe it would dissipate at all; it would probably only stoke the fires further.

He supposed that was true; while Loki worked in public relations, he hadn't had as much experience as Tony had in that department. Tony's whole life had been a headline; his birth, his mother's death, and every event in between had made it to the front page of some news publication. So he had a greater authority to talk about the media than Loki had, and his arguments were valid if not absolutely solid too.

But everything was so much clearer, when the emotion had been drained away. Loki could actually appreciate Tony further, now that he was separated from him and probably would never see him again. Because the situation seemed like a futile one; Bucky would end up killing him soon enough, when he deemed it appropriate.

A crazy part of his mind, so desperate for human interaction; hoped that Bucky would slew him soon and be done with the whole unfortunate business of it, especially if he intended on keeping him for even longer than a few days. Or so he believed it to be a few days' time already.

Maybe he had already gone stir-crazy, though. For all he knew, he had only been in there for several hours; not enough time for anyone to realize he was missing. Tony probably didn't care about his absence yet; if he ever would anyway.

"My mind's playing tricks on me." He spoke out loud again. "Of course, he cares; even if I said I hated him. He knew I didn't mean it; I never mean it."

He could only hope Tony knew he didn't mean it. He had to know; if he truly hated him, why would he want to marry him? Unless, he really was a gold digger and Tony had to know he wasn't one; he had to know.

Panic suddenly clawed its way up his throat; thick and heavy and unrelenting. It was irrational, he knew as much; and yet it threatened to drive him completely mad. He climbed to his feet, letting the scratchy blanket fall away from his shoulders, and hurried towards the door.

Halfway mad, Loki banged his fists against the door; uncaring of the fact his knuckles were still raw from his previous attempts on drawing Bucky's attention to him. He pounded his fists against the unrelenting metal, calling out for his captor with renewed desperation, and prayed that he couldn't possibly be ignored.

"Bucky, please," he called out. "I promise to be good! Please don't ignore me anymore!"

As certain as he was about the passage of time overall, Loki couldn't be certain how long he pounded on the door. But his ruckus finally seemed to appeal to Bucky. He heard the sound of locks being turned and the simple and beautiful sound of humanity.

The door slowly let way underneath his bruised hands, only an inch or two at the most. Before he heard the whine of something electrical; something that sounded dangerous, and dashed any outlandish attempt at escape (if he had any anyway).

"Back away now. I have a taser and I will use it." Bucky announced, which temporarily dazed Loki. It had been much too long since he heard another voice.

Hurriedly Loki backed away, so far away even that he pressed back into the corner he spent most of his time in. The thought of being shocked wasn't exactly appealing to him, and he didn't want to squander away the small amount of human contact he was given either.

Bucky eased the door open further, brandishing a taser gun as he claimed. Loki knew he would use it on him too, seeing as he had already punished him by ignoring him for god only knows how long. It wouldn't do him any good to antagonize him as he'd done beforehand currently.

"What do you want; more food, water?"

"How long has it been, since I've come to stay with you?" Loki chose his words carefully.

"Four days now," Bucky's hardened mask slipped for a split-second, unearthing a dreamy expression in its wake.

"Four days," he repeated, struck by panic once more.

"I haven't seen you in half a day, though. That was pure torture; to have you so close but so far away. But you made me do it, and to think I was under the impression you'd be happy."

"I just need time to adjust that's all."

"I wish I could trust you, but I can't." Bucky sighed, before he turned on his heel to leave.

Hundreds of thoughts roared through Loki's head at an alarming rate; he couldn't go without further human contact any longer. His mind was already betraying him by even imagining that Tony wouldn't care about his disappearance. That he might have thought it for the best, maybe even believed he was the gold digger that every gossip columnist had claimed him to be. And while Bucky wasn't any better in his obvious disdain of Tony; at least he was a separate entity with a separate mind without any true insight to their relationship.

"Please, don't go; please." Loki vaulted onto his knees, but didn't dare approach lest Bucky choose to use the taser on him. "Maybe we could talk."

"Talk about what?"

"Anything you'd like. Tell me about you; everything there is to know."

"Oh okay, I understand now." Bucky smiled tightly, obviously in no way pleased by his words. "So you want to learn everything about me just in case you figure a way out of here. And you'll make sure I'm locked away so I can't hurt anybody anymore."

Loki's previous words were tossed carelessly back into his face. He shouldn't have reacted so angrily the last time, even if it was fueled by fright, because now it only seemed to have caused him unnecessary hardships. Being alone for half a day shouldn't have been so hard to swallow; yet being alone in unknown peril and without anything to pass the time was like hell on earth.

Prisoners on death row had better accommodations than this. They had books or television or paper to write on; they had something to occupy their days, even if they couldn't mingle with other people. They had something to keep them off the edge of insanity; whereas Loki had nothing but a scratchy blanket, some food (not even plastic utensils) and a running commode.

"I didn't mean that, not a word of it!" Loki insisted. "I spoke out of anger that's all!"

"You're untrustworthy, but someday you'll be better. I know that; I just need to get all the bad influences away from you and make you better. Then we can be happy." Bucky nodded vigorously, reminiscent of a bobble headed figurine. "Now behave; if you don't I won't come see you anymore."

"You don't mean that."

"Oh, I do. Even if I do love you and want to take care of you, I'll leave you in here and never come back."

"Please, I'll be good. I promise." Loki scrambled forward, desperate to keep Bucky there that he almost forgot about the taser until it was far too late.

Once or twice he had been shocked in his life, but there wasn't a proper way to describe the pain that flooded his body now. His muscles seemed to tighten and bunch up, before they were released savagely when the shock dissipated. Loki fell backwards and hit the ground hard; his limbs didn't seem to want to move either, although he was in too much pain to try it just yet anyway.

"Look what you made me do!" Bucky cried out in anguish. "You made me do it, you made me!"

Loki barely noticed Bucky approach him, and touch the spot where the wires had connected. His left pec tensed under the soft touch of Bucky's hand, although the sensation dissipated as soon as the contact was broken.

"Why did you make do that?" Bucky practically sobbed, but he didn't linger very long either.

His looming presence disappeared and was followed almost immediately by the door being slammed closed behind him. Loki vaguely heard another sob, as the locks were being turned and secured; however, the pain and aftershock took precedent above everything else.

It took some time, maybe minutes or even hours before he dared to move an inch. His limbs felt leaden and tender, and his head buzzed with static. He pushed himself up to sit against the wall, blindly reaching for the scratchy blanket that provided the only warmth and comfort that he now had. And that was when he remembered Tony again; the mischievous, bright-eyed Tony that loved to sneak away from meetings and kiss in empty boardrooms, while whispering dirty things in his ear.

That Tony loved him, but did the one tethered to him now feel the same?

"He loves me; he'll find me." His voice shook and sounded strained, but more than anything there was uncertainty there.

It had been four days and Tony hadn't found him yet. Maybe he never would either.


	7. Chapter Six :: Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've returned from my wild and crazy Dragon*Con experience several days ago, but I needed sufficient time to recover. I guess that's what you get when you get about six-eight hours sleep over the course of four days.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!

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**Chapter Six :: Tony**

 

* * *

 

Tony studied his reflection in the full-length mirror. He looked immaculate in Armani; ready and willing to enchant the hundreds of news reporters that had congregated outside of Stark Tower, once they had gotten wind of an important message that Tony intended on passing along. But it hadn't anything to do with the state of the company nor any of the unsavory commentary that his former CEO had spread across the cable news networks recently.

This press conference was purely personal; a direct response to five days without any help from the proper authorities. Loki hadn't been seen for almost a week, and the police commissioner had deemed the case unworthy to investigate. Regardless of the fact that Tony had plenty of weight to go behind his name, he couldn't budge the hardheaded commissioner in any way whatsoever.

He'd been told various times that Loki's disappearance would inevitably be solved, once Loki returned from whatever tropical getaway he had escaped to. That he had taken some time to clear his head and that the perpetual media hounding had led him to such a drastic measure. Because really who would hold a grudge against a well-documented home wrecker beyond the one and only Virginia Potts? And why would she risk eliminating the competition so late in the game anyway?

Essentially it was that attitude that led Tony to this; despite the bad blood between him and Pepper, Tony knew that she was harmless. Pepper's words were her ultimate weapon, and the media was the gun in which she loaded those words into. But the woman wasn't stupid; she wasn't particularly violent either, and he knew that she wouldn't have done anything to Loki especially when there wasn't any reason for it.

Pepper had gotten her revenge already. Stark Industries had been on shaky foundation for several years, and had only begun to recover recently. She had hit Tony where it would hurt the most; she had jeopardized his ability to do business, while simultaneously brutalizing Loki with each passive aggressive word she had spoken while in front of a politic pundit with a judgmental audience.

So the likelihood of his former fiancée's involvement really wasn't possible. As much as the theory that Loki had simply run away to clear his head was feasible; specifically when Tony took into account that Loki hadn't contacted anyone or even used the available funds at his disposal. Which only led Tony to believe that something horrible had happened to Loki; so horrible in fact, that he really couldn't bring himself to think of it beyond a precursory thought.

Kidnapping had briefly crossed his mind, although by now he imagined he would have gotten a ransom notice already. But maybe, just maybe, the person responsible for Loki's disappearance was waiting for him to make the first move. Tony, after all, was not someone to shy away from anything and the words that were bound to leave his mouth would undoubtedly give the culprit incentive to return Loki safe and sound.

That was the only thing that was currently keeping him together. Otherwise, he would have been the hysterical mess that he'd been of late; screaming at anyone who would listen about the commissioner's incompetence and how the system had finally broken for someone like him too. He would have also been knee deep in empty liquor bottles by now, had he not heeded Rhodey's advice about maintaining a level head and finding an alternative to police intervention.

The FBI had been briefly been discussed, but Tony assumed they would be as blasé as the NYPD. Only when they knew for certain there was a pressing threat would they actually get involved. And his press conference would only help his cause; there was no other way to get everyone's attention, and if Tony had to manipulate the press for his own means then he was going to do so without any regret.

With one final look at his reflection, Tony turned away from the mirror and crossed the room in several long strides. His anxiety level threatened to pique at any given moment, but he forced it down into the deepest recesses of his body; where his fears had been temporarily stored for the time being.

If he learned anything from his heartless, absentee father; it was that being overly emotional was more problematic than it was worth, especially when you were purposely jumping into a tank full of hungry sharks; so it was important to maintain some semblance of calm, even if that was the farthest thing from what you were feeling. And his armor was slowly sliding into place; hiding all of his fear, heartache, and panic, and leaving behind an impenetrable force field that even the most seasoned reporter couldn't possibly penetrate even if they tried.

That didn't mean that there wouldn't be a slew of aggressive comments tossed his way, though. In fact, Tony believed there would be far more negative, useless commentary than anything useful. But he wasn't in the business of taking questions; his PR team would be there to handle any pressing questions, and only if they would serve a purpose in the end.

His PR team was patiently waiting outside the conference room door for him. All were stony faced and business-oriented as they always were. None of them asked him any personal questions, specifically about his well-being, as they crossed the lobby with a thunderous clap of footfall.

Unnecessary words were exchanged between them; mention of which media outlets had chosen to attend, and which reporter had been assigned to cover the press conference. Tony heard the name Christine Everhart amid the many, and managed not to cringe too obviously. Many of his seasoned PR members already knew the connection between him and Everhart nonetheless; since it was one of the many scandals they had smothered before it became a wildfire of controversy.

Before he and Pepper had become a proper couple, Tony had had several flings with women of the press. Christine Everhart had been one of many, but ultimately stood out from the rest because of her threat to reveal intimate details of the tryst once Tony had employed Pepper to toss her out the following morning.

In the very least, there wasn't any love between Pepper and Christine still. So the scandal hadn't brought the two of them together in mutual loathing of him at least. Yet Tony found very little solace in Christine's presence at the press conference; even if he didn't intend on taking questions, she always had a knack for squeezing several pointed ones in before he could depart accordingly.

That, however, was a secondary concern. Loki was still missing and would remain missing, unless he did everything in his power to change that. And if it meant being bombarded by unjust commentary from the likes of Christine Everhart, then Tony would plow through it with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Within minutes, Tony was escorted through the rotary door of Stark Tower and was bombarded by a wall of sound and light. Flash bulbs popped as he stepped towards the awaiting podium, and hundreds of voices called out to him; stupidly desperate to learn of the meaning of his press conference before he spoke into the awaiting microphones at his disposal.

He was pleased to note that his PR team had made sure that no one was comfortably seated, but instead were forced to stand in their stifling business attire; which they should have been used to by now, despite frequently complaining about the injustice of press conferences without substantial accommodations. Tony didn't want them to be comfortable, though; it wasn't about them and it wasn't about him. It was about Loki and he intended on making them realize as much.

Once he was situated behind the podium, the maelstrom of voices slowly ebbed away; as seasoned professionals had a tendency to do, when they were sure their most pressing of questions were bound to be answered. The flash bulbs came to an abrupt halt, although the light persisted from the television crews that had congregated around the steps; ready to broadcast what Tony had to say to the world, which was the only true solace that he had now.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he greeted in his professional no-nonsense voice, which projected crisply and confidently across the vicinity; even over the murmurs of the city. "I called you here today for one reason and one reason only. I wanted to discuss in length how inept and unprofessional the New York City Police Department really is. I found that out first-hand by the sheer dismissiveness in which they have handled my concerns, and ultimately how they brushed me off without a thought against the contrary.

"Five days ago, my partner Loki Odinson went missing; and the NYPD would like me to believe that he simply left for an impromptu vacation. That he needed his space from me and most of you too, his very best friends, and since he's clearly an adult he would have the right to do just that."

He paused to swallow the lump in his throat; the one that always seemed to persist, whenever he thought of Loki for more than a second or two. But it grew substantially, whenever he even tried to think of where he could possibly be and what could have possibly been done to him within that five day period.

"But my question is this – how could my partner take an impromptu holiday without any money? His bank account, his credit cards have yet to be used in any capacity. Now some of you might be standing there thinking about cash withdrawals; thinking he might very well have been stowing money, maybe even stealing money from me over the duration of two years. But rest assured, my accountants are very frugal and Loki was never one to carry cash; so this is just another red flag in a field of many."

Several questions burst from the crowd, none of which Tony paid any heed to. He allowed the excitement to hit its apex, while he steeled himself to continue onward with his speech. His emotions were threatening to claw their way up his throat once more, but he refused to allow them to completely dictate his demeanor. He had to be ruthless, angry, and no-nonsense; he wasn't trying to garner any sort of sympathy from anyone or even to be liked for that matter.

"Regardless of that fact, the NYPD has been nothing short of ineffective. They refuse to see the forest through the trees, if you will. And my partner hasn't been heard from by anyone for five days; let me repeat - five days, one-hundred and twenty hours. He hasn't gotten into contact with casual acquaintances, with business associates, and more importantly his very own family.

"If there's anything I know about Loki is that he would never, and I mean _never_ , run off without contacting his family. Which is precisely why I'm here today in front of you; I know that someone has had a hand in Loki's disappearance, and my intention is to reach out to whoever's responsible for it."

Tony paused once more, and ignored the sudden onslaught of newly developed questions. One of the louder voices was Christine Everhart's, who stood on the peripheral of his vision. She was aggressively waving her fist in the air, which was tightly clenching a ballpoint pen.

No matter the occasion, Christine always found the time to grace Tony with her presence. Pepper had once referred to it as a sick sort of obsession, and Tony supposed that wasn't too far from the truth; especially when he recalled the whole sordid scandal, and how frequently Christine had found her way to his whereabouts with heavy hitting questions and that smug little smile on her face.

"I'm directing this to you." Tony announced then, brushing Christine from his mind, and instead favoring one of the cameramen, whose camera was focused solely on him. "I don't know what your motive was and I really don't care at this point; your reasoning is irrelevant to me. What's important to me is Loki, and you have him and I want him back.

"Name your price and I'll triple it; so long as you deliver Loki to me unharmed. You'll get whatever you want, and I won't involve the authorities either. This transaction is between you and me. And all I want is for you to give me back Loki; that's all. I don't need justice, I don't need to know who you are or where you are – I just want Loki back. I need him back."

The words hung heavily in the air, momentarily silencing the media circus. Even Christine Everhart ceased her incessant hand waving, as if everyone finally understood the gravity of the situation. Maybe it was leant to the fact that Tony had spoken with unwavering conviction; although his face undoubtedly betrayed how desperate, terrified, and sick with worry he truly was.

Before a litany of further intrusive questions could explode from the crowd, Tony stepped away from the podium and from center-stage. His PR team circled him protectively, while one remained behind to add-on to anything that Tony had unwittingly forgotten while under the glare of so many eyes. But he knew that he had gotten his point across; he had spoken to the person, who had taken Loki away from him, and he meant every word of what he had said.

There was no way he would prosecute the person behind Loki's disappearance. Revenge was not something that he cared about, not if he had an opportunity to bring Loki back home and unscathed. The only reason why his motives would change is if Loki was harmed in any way; if the worst case scenario came to pass.

Tony's throat tightened painfully at the thought, but he refused to give it any more of his time. As things currently stood, Loki was very much alive; there wasn't any evidence to tell him otherwise. And that was a detail Tony desperately clung to; it was the only thing he had at that moment, and he would continue to cling to it until Loki was safely back in his arms.


	8. Chapter Seven :: Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I'm very happy with this chapter, but I was glad to write it nonetheless.

* * *

 

**Chapter Seven :: Bucky**

 

* * *

 

The handcuffs felt curiously heavy in his grasp; Bucky had had the foresight to procure a set before he had chosen to put his plans in motion. He knew the likelihood in which Loki would voluntarily submit to him was very slim. In fact, he expected a violent upheaval; more so than he had already gotten, although that didn't mean it wasn't bound to come about.

After all, Bucky had left Loki to his own devices for almost a whole day; and god only knew what he would stumble across, once he opened that door again. Something told him it was bound to be unpleasant; yet he knew he couldn't stay away any longer. For both his and Loki's well-being, he had to open that door and see what had since transpired.

Maybe the lack of human contact would have calmed any predilection Loki might have had about trying to attack him again. And maybe he would be grateful to come into contact with another living being, so that any violent tendency might dampen and remain an internal instinct instead of a reality.

Bucky inserted the key into the lock, sufficiently prepared for a potential attack. He had the stun gun hanging from his belt for easy access, even if he preferred not to use it again. He still regretted doing so, but his options had been limited then and his defenses had been low too.

Self-preservation was ultimately the most important thing in this instance. Especially since he had very little to his name beyond his own life, and he really couldn't say why it was important at all either. His existence hadn't been very good; he had been orphaned at a young age, and spent much of his adolescence hopping from foster home to foster home.

His enrollment in the army was inevitable; he hadn't a vast amount of intelligence to warrant any sort of scholarship for higher education. So his only option had been military service, which hadn't been good for his overall mental health.

He had done things and seen things beyond any measure of the imagination. Things that would have undoubtedly sent a civilian to prison for the rest of their natural born life; but his duty had been meant to uphold his country's freedoms. He had to do those things, in order to preserve everyone's rights.

Bucky hated to think about that, though. It already kept him up most of the night; haunted every dream that he ever had. Aside from the ones that involved Loki; those had always been good dreams. Which was probably why he had chosen to go through with his plan in the first place; if he had Loki within arm's reach, then the potential for nightmares would be eliminated completely.

Slowly he unlocked the door, and pushed it into the stark white room. He squared his shoulders in anticipation for an attack, but found his concerns to be unfounded almost immediately. Loki was seated on the floor, wrapped protectively in the scratchy blanket that Bucky had left behind for him.

There was an unpleasant stench in the air; one of old perspiration and unwashed body and hair. It had been some time since he'd brought Loki here to stay with him; if it was any indication by the utter disarray of his normally coiffed hair. Loki's hair stood up on end; a tangle of dirty knots and curlicues. While his once smooth face was covered in stubble that almost made him unrecognizable from the misconstrued figure of hate that the media dubbed him as.

Loki stared at him warily; he didn't move a muscle as Bucky stepped further into the room. His eyes did, however, stare at the handcuffs in his possession but didn't offer up any commentary about them. Which Bucky found to be just fine; after all, conversation only proved to irk him especially in terms of Tony Stark.

He had vaguely heard a report or another about some sort of press conference that the billionaire intended on holding. But he really hadn't any withstanding interest to see what it was about. Not when he already figured what it was about from the get-go. And he really didn't want to further aggravate himself unnecessarily.

After all, Tony Stark was bound to make some sort of insincere plea for Loki's safe return; spewing sincerities and niceties that were of Hollywood caliber. Because it truly was just an act for good publicity; Bucky knew the dynamics of politics, and he also knew Stark was the biggest perpetrator of them all.

"I'm not going to play any more games with you." He said, once he was within reaching distance of Loki. "If you try something, you'll get another shock. Do you understand?"

Loki kept his eyes pinned to the handcuffs, but nodded all the same; as if he had finally reached a level of obedience that he had sorely been lacking beforehand. Except, Bucky wasn't completely convinced of it still; not until Loki proven to him that he could be trustworthy. And he would have that opportunity within the coming minutes.

"Put out your wrists."

"Where are you going to take me?"

"Not very far," Bucky explained, as he lowered into a crouch beside him.

For half a beat, it looked like Loki wouldn't comply with his initial demand. He remained stoically still, before one arm jutted out from the blanket then the next. Both were lily-white and elegant but there was visible muscle definition in them, showcasing the strength that Loki ultimately possessed. And reminded him by no means was Loki a wilted flower.

Carefully as he could, Bucky snapped the handcuffs on each of Loki's wrists; tightening them until a soft hiss escaped Loki. But he wasn't about to make it comfortable for him; not when there was a well of distrust between them.

"Get up." He reached out to keep a hold of the chain linking the handcuffs together, before he pushed himself into a standing position.

Loki followed suit, although his movements were graceless and uncoordinated. The blanket fell away from his body, revealing bits of red skin where the fabric had agitated Loki's skin. Bucky had to look away, since he felt a sudden warmth pass over him. The kind that always went hand-in-hand with his dreams of Loki; ones where they were wound around one another, gasping and touching and moaning until a wealth of pleasure needled its way down Bucky's spine.

Dismissing those insufferable thoughts, Bucky tugged Loki into the direction of the door that had remained partially open and led the way into the open floor plan of his apartment. The living room, office, and kitchen were one oversized space but hardly lived in really. Bucky did work rather diligently at his desk, but otherwise none of the space had been properly used for some time.

Not so long ago, he had hosted parties; which would explain some of the higher end pieces in the room. But that sort of thing had lost its appeal, and he preferred the quiet that came with his anti-social behavior now.

Bucky led Loki across the living area, towards a door that was perpendicular to where they had come from. He pushed it open to reveal a basic three piece washroom; one that he had renovated himself, when he had been healthy enough to do so. Steve had helped him too; yet that had been as long ago as those parties had been.

When they were both situated in the room, Bucky motioned for Loki to seat himself on the top of the toilet seat; and to his great delight, Loki did so without any problems. To ensure he remained rooted to the spot, Bucky then pulled the stun gun from his belt and pointed it at him; a clear indication that he wouldn't hesitate to use it, if he tried to escape.

"Stay." He said, as he leaned towards the many knobs of the claw-footed tub, and turned them on.

Water gushed loudly into the porcelain bowl, which Bucky adjusted to a favorable temperature and then plugged the drain. His other hand remained vigilantly pointed at Loki, who hadn't moved an inch since he'd taken a seat; which was a good thing, because he didn't want to continue to keep Loki unkempt forever.

"Stand up and I promise you, you'll regret doing anything stupid." He backpedaled across the room and shut the door just as Loki stood with resignation.

"I promise you, I won't do anything. I know better now."

"I'd be stupid to take your word for it, though."

"You would, I agree." Loki replied, although lacking any sort of malice or intent.

Bucky set the stun gun onto the vanity's counter, farthest away from Loki; before he approached once more and reached for the elastic band of his underwear. Loki visibly stiffened but didn't protest as Bucky pulled them down over his hips and down his well-toned thighs; revealing a flaccid but rather impressive member between his legs.

There wasn't any time to dwell too much on it, though. Bucky instead worked on freeing Loki of his underwear, and waited for him to climb into the tub. As obedient as he had been, Loki complied and slid into the bottom of the tub and into the awaiting water; keeping his cuffed hands clutched to his chest, as if he feared getting them wet.

"We're going to clean you up, okay."

"Thank you." Loki sank further into the water, and bent his knees to accommodate to his long and graceful limbs.

Bucky took a brief moment to admire the visual; there had been many moments where he had tried to capture Loki in all his glory, but all of them paled in comparison to the reality of it. He was far more beautiful by far; lean and defined and fair but dark too. His hair contrasted the lightness of his skin, and drew the eyes downward to his belly and the thin patch of groomed hair above his sex.

Heat began to swell and settle inside of Bucky again; a primal sort of feeling that wanted him to take full advantage of the situation. Yet he smothered it; refused to give it any further leeway. He turned away and quickly opened the cupboard to the linen closet, and pulled out several towels and wash clothes to clean Loki up with.

Once his supplies was in hand, he set it beside the tub; before he gathered a loofa hung up around the mounted showerhead on the wall, and several bottles of shampoo and body wash; all of which he set down at his feet. He then turned off the water, and kneeled down to take advantage of his treasure trove of cleaning products.

"Are these absolutely necessary?" Loki lifted his arms, so the handcuffs were on full display again.

"I don't trust you." Bucky said curtly, as he dipped the loofa into the water to wet it.

"I know."

"You haven't given me any reason to trust you."

"Likewise," Loki pinned him with an exasperated look. "But how long do you think you can continue with this charade? Someone is bound to notice my disappearance. No less, they'll notice your unbecoming behavior as well. It can't go on forever, Bucky."

"And if I let you go?" He poured some body wash onto the loofa; only to touch it gently to the curve of Loki's shoulder and began to scrub away the grime from his skin. "Would you go back to Stark?"

Loki didn't readily respond; he only stared at him, as if he was attempting to dissect him and find the proper answer to his question. But the silence was enough to tell Bucky everything he needed to know. Of course, Loki would run back to Stark; regardless of the fact that Stark was nothing more than a poisonous snake in the grass.

"Do you believe he treats me badly?"

"I know he does; I wouldn't let anyone talk about you like they do on the news."

"That's beyond his control."

"Beyond a billionaire's control; I highly doubt that." Bucky ran the loofa down Loki's arm; eventually lifting it to clean the underside as well.

"Not everything can be solved with money. Virginia Potts made sure of that." Loki suddenly spat bitterly. "She made sure that I was the culpable party, even though Tony was equally to blame; if not more so. I wasn't engaged to her, after all."

Bucky couldn't help but smile; pleased to invoke some annoyance from Loki towards Stark. He knew that things weren't as picturesque as Loki wanted him to believe they were. And well, maybe Loki would draw to that conclusion himself within a reasonable amount of time, and realize how lucky he truly was to be away from the billionaire.

The rest of the bathing process was done in silence, beyond a feeble protest or two from Loki; when Bucky ventured towards his most intimate of parts, but even then he allowed him to clean him without any unnecessary ruckus aside from that. Bucky didn't try to extend any prolonged contact either; seeing as he was already teetering on the edge of a cliff by how much he wanted to touch and kiss every inch of Loki's body.

Once Loki was clean from head to toe, Bucky wrapped him up in several towels; before escorting him into his bedroom with the stun gun in hand. During one of his ventures into the city, he had bought several pieces of clothing for Loki; which he fully intended on giving him when the time was right. Even though, he was hardly trustworthy currently; that didn't stop him from handing over a thin cotton tee-shirt to him, a pair of boxer briefs and cozy pair of lounge pants for him to wear. The tee-shirt would have to wait, though; since Bucky still wasn't about to take off the handcuffs just yet.

"Could I get a shave?" Loki asked when he was clothed from the waist down. "I've never been much for facial hair."

"Why didn't you say so earlier?"

"Clothing seemed more important. But I don't have any qualms going back into the bathroom with you, and while I'm not the sort to put my face into others' hands; I suppose I don't have any choice in the matter."

"I have an electric shaver; it shouldn't be a problem." Bucky motioned for Loki to make his way back next door; glad that there wasn't any sort of funny business involved. Instead Loki obediently returned to his spot on the toilet seat, while pushing back his damp hair away from his face.

As smoothly as the bathing process went, so did the shaving one. Bucky divested Loki of any stray hair and restored his face back to its previous glory; which was even more breathtaking than it was through a TV screen, although he had known that when he caught sight of Loki in that bar almost a week beforehand.

"You won't put me back into that horrible room again, will you?" Loki asked, after Bucky spread a soothing aftershave across his face.

"I still can't trust you."

"I promise not to run away; I'll even share your bed with you."

"Like you said, I'd be stupid to trust your word." Bucky reached for the stun gun again, and yanked on the chain between the handcuffs. "I'm not stupid; if I was you wouldn't be here right now."

"That makes me the stupid one then."

"I saved you, remember that."

"Yes, maybe," Loki climbed to feet; dejectedly allowing him to be led back towards the white walled room that was to be his residence for the foreseeable future.

It only took a few minutes to release Loki of the handcuffs and for him to pull on his tee-shirt without any assistance; except he looked far from pleased by his return. In fact, he had the gall to shoot Bucky a venomous and hateful glare; which hadn't any right to grace his face. Not after the extensive care he had taken on cleaning him and making him comfortable.

"He will find you; Anthony will not leave me here. He'll find me and you'll have to deal with the consequences of your actions. Mark my words."

"Catch more flies with sugar than vinegar." Bucky glowered at him. "Not in your case though; I guess you'll have to stay here and think about what you've said for a while."

Panic slowly spread across Loki's face, but Bucky didn't revel in it. He never reveled in the fear he invoked; he didn't like to see it either. So he hurriedly crossed the room and slammed the door shut behind. And just like clockwork, he heard Loki cry out to him; followed shortly by the slam of his fists against the heavy and impenetrable door.

It did nothing to dissuade him. If anything it only made Bucky angrier. He had been infinitely patient and gentle with Loki, only to receive hostility in the end. Regardless of his intention to keep his temper in check; it ended up exploding as it always did.

Something akin to a growl erupted from his lips, as he kicked over the coffee table and sent the antique chess set that Steve had gotten him for one of his birthdays flying. But many of his other trinkets also were thrown haphazardly to the floor; some breaking into tiny pieces, while others bounced off the hardwood floors without any visible damage.

By the time Bucky had exhausted himself; the living space was in disarray. It was a cemetery of broken ceramic and porcelain, of crumpled paper and overturned furniture. Yet that hadn't done anything to quiet Loki on the other end of his door; begging and negotiating to be let out, and promising exaggerated things from money to private islands and jets to sex.

He never promised love, though; which was what Bucky wanted most of all. And that only fueled his intention of leaving Loki in there for however long it took to break him.


	9. Chapter Eight :: Thor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help it, I got inspired.

* * *

 

**Chapter Eight :: Thor**

 

* * *

 

Despite the well-publicized press conference that Tony had given on the steps of Stark Industries; there hadn't been any word about Loki's disappearance still. No one had come forward with any information nor had Loki himself been returned in one piece. Thor had reason to be concerned as did the whole family that had taken residence in the Plaza hotel.

The NYPD hadn't done much in response to the harsh criticism Tony had leveled them with. Even the police commissioner hadn't come out with a public statement, which only fueled the already existing media circus; and continued to make Loki's personal life a topic of conversation on the cable news channels.

Many of the more popular talking heads had had the gall to insinuate that Loki had abandoned his billionaire boyfriend, and decided to start anew. But what was even more appalling was the idea that the Odinson family was wise to such plans, and was intentionally keeping the information away from Tony. Which couldn't be any further from the truth; no one had heard from Loki in well over nine days now, and panic had easily turned to sorrow.

Thor had taken a somber approach to the situation; half-convinced that Loki had met a violent end at the hands of an unknown assailant. He hadn't shared his thoughts with anyone, although he believed they were reflected back at him in his elder brother's eyes. Baldur hadn't specifically said anything aloud; yet there was resignation about him nonetheless.

The family sat wordlessly around the television; gripped by the latest discussion piece about Loki's disappearance. It was a mockery, really. The group of commentators was in the midst of dissecting Tony's press conference; most accusing him of being over dramatic for showing concern for his missing partner. While others added in about their suspicions of Loki's whereabouts; some of which mentioned leaving the city with a personal trainer or a pool boy even.

"Turn off this garbage." Baldur rose to his feet with a disgusted look on his face. "No one is taking Loki's disappearance seriously. And you couldn't expect Fox News to become enlightened, when they live in Virginia Potts's pocket."

As if on cue, the host announced a guest via satellite. The name that spread across the screen was enough to cause a collected gasp to fill the room. Thor lurched forward to snatch the television remote from the coffee table, and turned up the volume to an ear-splitting level.

Baldur collapsed unceremoniously back into his seat, once the sunny smile of Virginia "Pepper" Potts came onto the screen. The stereotypical skyline of a city served as her backdrop, and her title, CEO of Killian Corporation, scrolled across the frame; alongside the information that she was being recorded live from Beijing, China.

White-hot anger boiled deep in Thor's gut; he had suffered through plenty the pretty CEO's slander to last him a lifetime. Pepper had deemed it necessary to drag Loki through the mud, whenever the opportunity presented itself. She had even written an autobiography that detailed the scandal from start to finish; which only ended with Loki as the villain.

By no means did Thor believe Loki had been in the right during that whole debacle; in fact, he had disapproved of the relationship once he became the wiser to it. But Loki was an adult and could do as he saw fit, and no one could tell Loki anything otherwise.

 _"Miss Potts, it's a pleasure to have you joining us tonight."_ The host greeted with a toothy grin on his sunburnt face.

 _"Oh the pleasure is all mine, Sean!"_ Pepper returned happily.

 _"I know you are currently in Beijing on business. But I'm sure you have heard of Stark Industries CEO's recent scandal. Tony Stark held a press conference four days earlier, pleading for the public's help since his_ partner _Loki Odinson has apparently gone missing; and the NYPD has supposedly been ineffective on taking his concerns seriously."_

 _"Well, as you know Sean; Mr. Stark has always had a flare for theatrics."_ Pepper laughed. _"Clearly, he and Mr. Odinson have had a falling out of sorts; and rather than admit that their relationship has failed miserably, Mr. Stark rather kick up some dust instead!"_

The commentators shared in Pepper's laughter; all mocking Tony's potential romantic problems. Which only ignited further outrage in Thor, when he knew something was truly amiss; Loki never would have disappeared of his own volition. He wasn't the sort. And even if he and Tony were no longer getting along, Loki wouldn't have hesitated on confronting Tony head-on.

 _"As our viewers already know, you were in fact more than the former CEO of Stark Industries. In fact, you were engaged to Mr. Stark for several years."_ The host cut through the chit-chat, but still wore his insufferable grin.

_"Mr. Stark and I were entwined romantically for well over a decade. But he had an existential crisis and left me for a former Hammer Corp. employee; who you know, Sean, is not only a younger individual but a man as well."_

_"That's why we appreciate your insight on this topic, Miss Potts! So would you say that you really believe that Mr. Stark and Mr. Odinson, two well-known media magnets, are just having some trouble in paradise?"_

_"It's hard to ignore the facts, Sean."_ Pepper nodded in pseudo-sadness. _"I believe that Mr. Odinson has gotten involved in a situation that is way over his head. The media attention most certainly has been pretty glaring, and I don't think he was prepared to handle the responsibility of Mr. Stark. So why wouldn't he choose to exit, gracelessly might I add, from all the attention?"_

Baldur uttered out an expletive, although it was easily overpowered by their father's angry growl; one that only made its presence known, when Odin was completely incensed. Thor hadn't actually sat down with either of his parents and spoken about Loki's public mauling beforehand. It was a touchy topic and an awkward one too. But they couldn't avoid it any longer, especially with Pepper Potts on screen slandering Loki still.

The woman hadn't any shame; while she seemed sugary-sweet, there was a black mamba underneath the designer clothes and pretty smile. And she couldn't help but take a shot or two at Loki, even when the circumstances could be potentially dire.

"Can we please turn this off now?" Baldur asked. "After we heard from the woman who single-handedly destroyed Loki's reputation, and who is now mocking the fact that he's gone missing!"

"I have to agree with, Baldur." Thor glowered at the screen, before he lifted the remote control to turn off the television; or in the very least turn the channel.

"No, I want to hear what she has to say." Frigga spoke up then.

"You want to hear her slander your missing son?" Baldur motioned at the screen, but was silenced by their mother lifting her hand for quiet.

_"So this is just an elaborate ploy for Mr. Stark to hide his wounded pride?"_

_"No one knows Mr. Stark as well as I do, Sean. This is just another one of his theatrical performances; he cannot stand to lose, and do you really think he would want some low-level former PR employee to make a fool out of him? More specifically after he combated the media and popular opinion too over this supposed love affair?"_

_"In that case, does that mean you don't believe it was love at all?"_

_"I find it hard to believe; it's almost laughable, to be perfectly honest."_ Pepper returned archly; for a split-second showing the level of hostility she still harbored towards her former fiancé and Loki too.

Thor felt a tirade bubble inside of him, ready to erupt from his lips. It, however, didn't come out; not when he noticed their mother climb to her feet, and cross the room towards where her purse was situated beside the door.

She returned rather quickly with her mobile phone in hand; her attention was fully focused on the keypad, and only glanced up to the screen when a telephone number flashed across the screen. Before anyone could protest, Frigga had already put the receiver to her ear and patiently waited to get through the line.

Maybe no one had any further commentary on the topic, or perhaps it was a strike of good luck; whatever the cause was, Thor gaped in bafflement when the host picked up on the line their mother was on.

 _"Hello, caller; you're on-line with yours truly and Miss Virginia Potts, CEO of Killian Corporation."_ The host greeted with his ugly grin, which reminded Thor of a predatory creature.

"Yes, Mr. Hughes; I have plenty to say to Miss Potts." Frigga said calmly, a perfect picture of dignity.

_"So you too have a lot to say about the topic of Tony Stark's press conference."_

"I do, in fact I have a very opposing view about it. I believe that Mr. Stark's press conference was not a ploy to resurrect his image from a messy break-up; rather that it was a concerted move on his behalf to spread the word of Loki Odinson's disappearance."

 _"While I respect your opinion, ma'am; I have to remind you that I was a close confidant and companion of Mr. Stark's for years."_ Pepper smiled widely, almost to the point of ruining her iron-clad façade.

"Oh, I am fully aware of your position in this, Miss Potts. But you don't know the extent of mine." Frigga's voice took on a stern no-nonsense tone that was rarer than Odin's growl. "I have remained voiceless throughout this whole media scandal, but I refuse to continue to be silent when Loki Odinson, _my son_ , is missing. And I take great offense that you would insinuate for one moment that he had simply gone on an extended vacation, due to a fractured relationship.

"I also take offense to your panel, Mr. Hughes for making light of my son's disappearance; and even having the gall to implicate my family in knowing Loki's whereabouts and withholding them in order to participate in some macabre game between cable news channels. Especially since we have not heard a word from my youngest son in nine whole days; nor has there been any activity on any of his financial accounts either for that matter.

"So I believe all of you should be ashamed of yourselves, when there are many people terrified to death about their loved one's unexpected disappearance. And while, I can find no fault with your dislike of my son, Miss Potts; the situation in question has happened well over two years ago, and you have maimed and mauled my son in the public eye for far too long. To which I have to say this to you – if you ever say another untoward thing towards my son's disappearance, and have the gall to joke about it as you have this evening; you will be hearing from my attorney and trust me, he is the best that money can buy because he is my eldest son."

Before either the host or Pepper Potts could reply accordingly, Thor watched as their mother disconnected the call with a jut of her finger. The studio was suddenly consumed by an uncomfortable silence; although it was quickly remedied by the host calling for a commercial break. Which was almost laughable, specifically when it came to the look that crossed over Pepper's face that effectively showed her true colors.

The pretty CEO's face had turned beet red, no doubt struck by a mixture of fury and humiliation by being called out on national television. But the moment was short-lived, and truly didn't lighten the mood at all. Since Loki was still missing and there hadn't been any leads whatsoever from what Tony had conveyed to them earlier in the day.

Thor switched off the television, hit by another wave of hopelessness. The likelihood that Loki was alive was slim at this point; Tony and Frigga seemed to be the only ones who believed otherwise. But Thor suspected that even Tony's bravado about the situation was feigned; that the reality of the matter had begun to sink in every minute without word from Loki.

"Do you really think Virginia Potts can keep her mouth shut about this situation?" Baldur asked with a hint of indignation in his tone. "Because whether or not you've threatened her with legal action, Mother; I think she'll continue to slander Loki and Tony alike."

"She'll know better next time." Odin declared then, before standing from his position on the loveseat. "You'll make sure of that Baldur."

The patriarch of the family exited the room for the bedroom, and left behind a tense silence in his wake. Even the dignity seemed to melt away from their mother, who all but fell onto the seat she had occupied only moments beforehand.

"I never had a clearer extinct than the one I have right now; I don't think I'll ever see Loki again." Frigga whispered out, before a cry choked any other words she might have spoken.

Thor and Baldur both were by her side within seconds; they wrapped their arms around, but Thor knew they were all in agreement by that assessment. They'd more than likely would never see Loki again.


	10. Chapter Nine :: Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved having the opportunity to introduce Peggy into the story; I hope she'll play a crucial part too. And thank you everyone for all the support and lovely comments; you've really inspired to get off my butt and write further on this story, when I almost abandoned it. :)

* * *

 

**Chapter Nine :: Steve**

 

* * *

 

Holiday leave had ultimately appeared to be the right decision, once Tony Stark's criticism of the NYPD had hit every news outlet and printed publication across the country. While much of the media had taken to blatantly mocking the billionaire and scandal magnet; Steve had felt the palpable tension in the air, whenever he entered the precinct. That was amplified in his direction, since he had been the one to offer his assistance when Stark had initially filled out his missing person's report.

Steve had felt unjustly singled out for simply doing his job. So he had chosen to take ample time away, until the storm subsided some; which, unfortunately, it didn't seem to be doing anytime soon. Not when a cable news program had been covering the Loki Odinson case frequently and even employed Virginia Potts to add her commentary to the mix.

But the headline sticking point had been when Loki Odinson's own mother had called in and threatened Virginia Potts with legal action, if she continued to belittle and berate her missing son on the nightly television circuit. And that only added further fuel to the fire, and in Steve's opinion, took away some much needed attention from Loki's actual disappearance; since he did believe that Loki had gone missing and hadn't simply vanished of his own volition.

Cops usually had gut feelings about such things, and Steve was no different in that respect. He believed Loki had been taken by someone, but he also believed without any police intervention that Loki's survival rate was practically non-existent at this point. If anything, the poor guy was probably already dead.

"Your mind's elsewhere, Steve." A voice twinkled beside him; perfectly smooth and cultured, as was the person it belonged to.

"I'm sorry, Peggy." He returned sheepishly with a shake of his head; in hopes of clearing his mind of anything work related.

If anything, he should have been completely focused on his long-term girlfriend; who had taken leave on short notice to visit him. They hadn't been within the same vicinity for months now; so he knew he should have been giving all his attention to Peggy, rather than focus on a situation beyond his control.

The police commissioner had made it clear that they would not launch an investigation into the case, unless they had solid evidence that Loki Odinson was in fact taken. Even if Tony Stark tried to manhandle them into an awkward position, the NYPD wasn't about to budge. And Steve knew his recommendation wasn't about to turn the tide in Stark's favor either.

"Something's bothering you." Peggy observed with an arched eyebrow. "There are only two things that can distract you like this and that's a case or Bucky. And since you've taken leave from your work, it can only be Bucky."

"Oh hell, Bucky," Steve gaped, before shooting Peggy a bewildered look. "I haven't seen Bucky in weeks; haven't even telephoned him either!"

Steve had been meaning to visit his best friend, but had been occupied by a multitude of things instead. Tony Stark had truly rattled the precinct to its core with his press conference; and that had taken precedent over everything else. Which Steve wasn't particularly proud of, especially when he considered how much Bucky had deteriorated over the past few years.

His once lively and boisterous best friend had slowly succumbed to hermit-like behavior. Bucky rarely left his apartment anymore, nor would he invite anyone over for the occasional beer or baseball game either. In fact, Bucky had become a shadow of his former self; ravaged by a mental illness that he refused to get help for.

"You haven't spoken to him in weeks?" Peggy repeated tersely; concern etched across her face. "Steve, you know he needs to be checked in on; especially when you consider his level of deterioration."

"I know, but the NYPD has had some PR problems of late."

"I know your work is important, but Bucky is very ill. In fact, I don't know if he's truly suffering from a mental disorder but something more pressing instead."

"What do you mean? We know when he came back from Afghanistan; he wasn't exactly the same before he left." Steve furrowed his brows, unsure of what Peggy was trying to convey.

They had had several conversations about Bucky over the past few years, and both of them were in agreement that Bucky needed some kind of help. It was a miracle within itself that he could even take care of himself without any outside intervention. That he could actually make a solid income, when everything else in his life was in shambles. But Steve and Peggy had always blamed it on PTSD and maybe even a form of psychosis; both of which were serious disorders, and both of which were mentally based.

"Yes, Bucky was different but he wasn't a self-proclaimed homebody with delusions either. Not initially anyway; you know as well as I do, that his condition only progressed within the past few years, which makes me think it might be a physical ailment instead." Peggy pointed at her head. "I was talking to a doctor friend of mine, a neurosurgeon more specifically. I told him a bit about Bucky's behavior of late, and he suggested that it might be worthwhile to make an appointment with a doctor to see if there might be an obstruction in his brain."

"Be more specific,"

"The possibilities are endless, Steve. And you know I'm not a licensed neurosurgeon; so I can only guess that he meant he could have a brain tumor that could be affecting his overall personality."

"But that would mean…" he trailed off; unable to finish any thought that he might have had.

Despite wishing to believe otherwise, Steve could see the logic to that argument. Bucky hadn't returned from Afghanistan and turned into the anti-social individual he currently was overnight. It had happened progressively over a period of time; which had both surprised and concerned Steve but overall it had gone unnoticed until it was too late.

It scared him to think of the alternative, though. He couldn't imagine the hardships and medical expenses that correlated with something as serious as a brain tumor. And the likelihood that Bucky could very well die from it, only made his stomach tighten in worry and anxiety.

"This could be our only opportunity, Steve." Peggy interrupted his morbid thought pattern then. "We've discussed your coming to London, and bringing Bucky along too. We can take him for an evaluation with my friend; so if anything is wrong, we can take care of him. And you've said yourself, you think a change of scenery would do Bucky well anyway."

"I did say that, but Peggy we shouldn't be celebrating a hypothetical death sentence for my best friend."

"No one is celebrating anything. But this will give us an opportunity to help Bucky and watch out for him. He's living in Brooklyn all alone, and since you've been so busy; you haven't even been able to check up on him."

"And how are we ever going to convince him to come along to London; let alone see a doctor?"

"We'll figure out something, of course. He's always been fond of me." She smiled softly at him. "Too bad we couldn't hire Loki Odinson to give him a pep chat, though."

Steve couldn't help but frown; if there ever was a point of contention between him and Peggy, it was her odd belief that Bucky was overly consumed with the Tony Stark sex scandal. She had mentioned her concerns in passing, but Steve had always found the notion ludicrous.

"Let's not talk about that; it reminds me too much of work."

"A sex scandal reminds you too much about work? Now Steven, what have you been investigating of late?"

"I'm surprised this isn't worldwide news already. You know with the big spectacle Tony Stark made almost a week ago." Steve frowned deeper. "I've been getting a lot of flak from the guys at the precinct because of this whole mess too. About two weeks ago, Stark came into the precinct to file a missing person's report on Loki Odinson; and Clint and I were the only ones willing to help him.

"Apparently, no one took the report seriously and Stark held a press conference about how ineffective the NYPD has been. More importantly, Loki Odinson is still missing and no one's really giving it the media attention it deserves. Or at least, they aren't viewing it as a missing person case, but another scandal instead."

There was half a beat of confusion on Peggy's face, although it smoothed away into a mask of nonchalance. Steve didn't know what could have possibly caused that reaction, and he had to admit he didn't want to know. Something told him, he really wouldn't like what he would have learned if he pressed the subject.

"That's very unfortunate; I hope they find him soon. I imagine Mr. Stark has an arsenal of private detectives on the case already." She spoke up once more, but in a guarded and terse voice. "But you know what I think would be lovely to do? Why don't we go to see Bucky; we can take him out for a bit of a walk then an early dinner."

"I don't know about that Peggy; maybe I should call him first. He doesn't take kindly to surprise visits, you know." Steve didn't want to risk a violent outburst from Bucky, over something as avoidable as not impeding on his privacy.

Without waiting for an affirmative from Peggy, Steve stood from his perch on the sofa that they'd been seated on; and made his way towards the kitchenette where he usually set his mobile phone and keys onto the countertop. Thankfully, they're there too; he took possession of his mobile phone and unlocked the touch screen, before accessing the phonebook with well over fifty names in it.

He scrolled through the list, until he came to Bucky's; half-smiling at the photo attached to the number. It had been a picture taken several years ago, when Bucky was still Bucky; the social butterfly that everyone had known and loved. And if he remembered correctly, Steve believed he'd taken that photo during St. Patrick's Day in some pub; where the crowd had already been riled up and half-drunk by the time they got there.

It was a good memory; one of thousands, really. But there had been very few of late; exasperated further by the possibility that Bucky had a serious health problem that was causing all these uncharacteristic mood swings and behavioral issues.

Pushing aside those depressing thoughts, Steve clicked onto Bucky's number; before pressing the phone to his ear. The monotone drone of the dial tone, thrummed over and over again; several times over, but it soon came to an end by the sound of someone picking up the other line.

_"Hello,"_ Bucky greeted, although in a tired and strained voice.

"Bucky, buddy; it's Steve."

_"Oh, hey,"_

"I wondered if you minded if Peggy and I stopped by to see you. We'd love to take you out for dinner too; and I know I'm an old stick in the mud, but I know how much you love Peggy. And she came all this way to see you."

_"Very funny,"_

"No, I'm serious. I could put her on right now and she'd tell you herself." He turned to Peggy, who offered him an okay sign.

Silence stretched across the line, albeit Steve could hear Bucky's breathing on the other end. Which only added to the many worries Steve was now feeling; the old Bucky wasn't one for silence, really. He always had something to say; something witty and spot-on that could crack up a crowd. But now there wasn't any sort of carefree humor about him; it was just a black cloud of moroseness that followed him everywhere.

_"I haven't slept in days; I've been working a lot. I'm tired."_

"Well, I mean we could bring you something to eat; drop by for a quick hello."

_"Not today, Steve. It's a bad day; every day is bad."_ Bucky confessed reluctantly, before the line went dead seconds later.

Steve pulled the phone away from his ear, temporarily baffled by the brief conversation; except he wasn't truly surprised. It would have been far more surprising to hear Bucky in high spirits, laughing carefree and jovially; as opposed to the hard-edged confession that just came out of him.

"Maybe next time, Peggy."

"Give it a few days; I'll come up with a way to get him to London, Steve. It's too important not to, at this point. He needs to get out of this city."

"Yeah, maybe," Steve sighed, as he shut off his mobile phone; all the while trying to brush away the sudden dread that began to build up in the pit of his stomach.


	11. Chapter Ten :: Loki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've contemplated going on a very long break from writing. I don't know what I'll I do about it, but somehow this happened.

* * *

 

**Chapter Ten :: Loki**

 

* * *

 

Stir-crazy was the only term suitable to describe Loki's current predictable. Lucidity and delusion seemed to be one in the same; a never-ending cycle of confusion and paranoia and desperation for human interaction beyond the briefest moments in which Bucky delivered his food things. He needed to know that he wasn't losing his mind entirely and he needed someone to talk to.

Unfortunately nothing was forthcoming; the same white walls greeted him every time he opened his eyes, and the same itchy blanket was always wrapped around his body like armor. While he had some clothing to call his own once more, it didn't change much of anything. He was still a caged animal; one that no longer could tell up from down, or even simpler concepts than that.

He most certainly couldn't psycho-analyze the cause behind Bucky's behavior. Nor could he even begin to dissect why Tony had yet to find him; after all, Tony was a well-connected businessman, who had ties to many people in every imaginable career field on the planet. Tony should have found him by now; he should have saved him and maybe hired someone to put a bullet through Bucky's head too.

There should have been a resolution by now. Yet there hadn't been one, which seemed to suggest that maybe Loki was unwanted after all. That maybe Tony had found someone much better to his liking. He might have even reconciled with Pepper Potts.

Despite the many public declarations of devotion Tony had made, Loki had always feared that he would fall back into Pepper's clutches. They had an iron-clad history; they had been boss and employee, friend and friend, and eventually lovers. No one could erase the past they shared, and something told Loki that no one could replace Pepper in Tony's heart either.

Loki supposed he'd always known that, though. So that would explain why he wanted a solid and law abiding commitment, as opposed to a verbal one. He wanted to know that he was the only one in Tony's life, and that Pepper or any other redhead with mile long legs wouldn't take his place at the drop of a hat. But that was all for nothing, seeing as Tony hadn't come for him and probably never would either.

That was the only thing clear to him now. Tony wasn't going to save him from his fate, which only meant he'd either die in between these four sterile walls. Or that he could potentially save himself and try to open his mind about the possibility of letting Bucky closer to him.

By no means was Bucky homely; in fact he was rather attractive. In the right light, he had a resemblance to a young Marlon Brando. And when he smiled, genuinely smiled, it had the ability to burrow underneath your skin and stay there for hours on end and haunt you.

Loki knew he had the capability to make Bucky smile like that too. It would be rather simply even; he would just have to peel away his armor and expose himself completely. He could let Bucky in and vocalize his many doubts about Tony and why deep down inside, he knew their relationship hadn't any stay power after all.

While he had openly criticized Tony the first night he met Bucky, Loki hadn't verbalized his deepest and darkest fears to him then. He hadn't told anyone, Tony included, how he had feared being cheated on and thrown away like yesterday's garbage. Nor had he told anyone that he probably more than likely deserved that sort of treatment, especially since he had known from the get-go about Tony's relationship status.

Maybe this whole debacle was his punishment for getting involved with Tony in the first place. Fate was known to be cruel and karma was a very plausible concept to Loki. Which would explain everything perfectly; Loki knew he had been in the wrong, and now karma had unleashed its wrath on him in turn.

This was his sentence and he would simply have to make do with what he had. He had Bucky; a feasible and attainable entity with Marlon Brando's good looks and the bluest eyes he'd ever seen, that were much different to the brown eyes he had loved so much. But blue were better and kinder and _visible_.

He wanted nothing more than to see those eyes right now. He also wanted to apologize for his disagreeability and promise Bucky he could be better; he _would_ be better. Of course, he would be; he hadn't anything else but that now.

Before his mind could draw him any further into the abyss of hopelessness, the impenetrable door on the edge of Loki's peripheral groaned and was slowly pushed open a fraction of an inch. Loki held his breath, unsure if Bucky would push a new tray of food across the cement floor as he was privy to do of late or not.

Instead of following typical protocol, Bucky pushed open the door further and warily eyed the room, as if he feared that Loki had somehow burrowed his way through the plaster and disappeared. But he hadn't any proper tools to even chip away at a small portion of the wall. He was only given flimsy plastic utensils for his food, after all.

Bucky balanced a plate in one hand, while the other made it a point to stroke the taser gun on his hip; a subtle reminder that any abrupt movement would end badly. Loki remembered the pain from being shocked all too clearly and he wasn't about to tempt fate any further than he already had. This was a delicate situation and he wanted to be better for Bucky now.

"You've been behaving of late." Bucky said cautiously, as he took several steps further into the room; before he kicked the door shut behind him. "So I have something special for you."

Loki didn't move from his designated corner as Bucky crouched down and placed the plate down with care. Rather than the usual menu, there were several pieces of pizza stacked haphazardly onto the plate; _New York_ style pizza. The type that Loki enjoyed but rarely ate, whether or not Tony bought some on the fly for dinner.

Hidden underneath Bucky's arm was a can of cola, which he expertly popped open and set beside the plate; before he looked expectantly to Loki, maybe in hopes of some grandiose gesture of either affection or hate. Although Loki suspected Bucky expected the latter, if it was any indication by the way he touched the taser gun again.

"Thank you." He said meekly. "May I?"

"Okay." Bucky nodded and permitted Loki to shift towards the plate and by proxy Bucky himself.

As non-threatening as he could, Loki reached for the topmost piece of pizza, and folded it so he could have a better grasp of it. Once he'd done that, he brought the slice to his mouth and took a bite from it; which sent his taste buds into overdrive. It had been a while since he had anything that flavorful and delicious, and he couldn't help but close eyes and savor every unique taste to it.

Within a matter of seconds, he completely devoured the whole slice; feeling almost human again since he hadn't consumed something that heavy in weeks (or what he assumed was weeks). He reached for a second slice, but had the cola can jutted out to him instead.

"Drink something first. You don't want to eat too fast anyway; you'll hurl."

"Thank you." Loki repeated as he took the proffered can and took a hearty drink from it.

The carbonation burned his throat and his nose too, yet it didn't bother him very much. It was a satisfying sort of burn; a familiar sort that he hadn't experienced since his childhood. Nowadays his diet was fairly strict and cola of any kind was not on the menu.

"I'll bring you another can." Bucky said, while he rose to his feet. "Like I said – don't eat too fast or you'll hurl."

"Wait, Bucky," Loki placed the can back onto the ground, although he didn't move any beyond that. "I, thank you again. And I'm sorry that I've been difficult. You were right, after all."

"Right about what, exactly?"

"Well, about everything. More specifically about Tony and me; you were right about how he doesn't care." He said, although the words didn't taste any less bitter than he imagined they would.

The reality of the matter was that Bucky had had a point. While Loki had vehemently refused to believe the validity of it, he could only believe it in hindsight now. Surely if he was loved and missed, someone would have done everything within their power to find him. A powerful man like Tony wouldn't have permitted his absence to go on for so long.

Bucky didn't immediately reply; instead he crouched down again and stared Loki directly in the eye. Maybe he hoped to unearth the truth, to see a falsehood behind those words. But there was no possible lie there; it was evident that Tony didn't love him. If he had, he would have saved Loki already.

"Of course, I was right." Bucky returned, all the while maintaining eye contact; permitting Loki to stare deeply into the never-ending blue of his eyes.

Blue truly was a beautiful color; it encompassed so many things – the sky, the ocean, and hydrangeas too. Both Baldur and Thor had blue eyes, although they certainly weren't as vibrant and penetrating as Bucky's were. Theirs couldn't cause his body to seize up in anticipation either; an odd sort of anticipation at that.

"I was just too stubborn to see it. I've always been insecure about my footing with Tony. I always imagined he would leave me for Virginia Potts, and leave me with the shame and humiliation of the past few years."

"If you hadn't been caught, do you really think he would have left the broad in the first place?"

"I never thought of that." Loki admitted, suddenly weighed down by such a loaded question.

Somehow that thought hadn't crossed his mind beforehand. Maybe it was due to the relentless media scrutiny and the many personal calls that bogged Loki down weeks after the fact. Whatever it might have been, it really wasn't important. What was though was the question at hand.

Would Tony have left Pepper, had they not been caught in a heated embrace? Or would Tony have continued to keep him on the sideline; keeping him as a willing participant of his infidelity? While there wasn't any forthcoming answer to that; Loki could only assume the worst. That Tony wouldn't have left Pepper without being exposed by his former assistant to the media as he had.

Why would there be any reason to validate their affair anyway, especially if Tony could have the best of both worlds? It would be counterproductive to his lifestyle. If they hadn't been caught, Tony wouldn't have had to fight tooth and nail to keep Stark Industries above water. Pepper would have remained as CEO and the two would have continued to be high society's favorite couple. And that would have left Loki as a bona fide piece of ass; who wouldn't have any meaning to Tony beyond the concerns of his dick.

"He wouldn't have." He uttered, keenly aware of the devastation in his own voice.

"He wouldn't have what?" Bucky pressed as he stared directly into his soul.

"He wouldn't have left her. He hadn't any intention of doing so. I meant absolutely nothing to him, beyond a tawdry affair."

"You're right, he wouldn't have. He never realized how precious and perfect you are. But I do; I can see it as clear as day. Your worth's brighter than Time fucking Square, Loki."

"He wouldn't have left her." He repeated and felt the heaviness of those words resonate off the walls.

Bucky had been right; he'd been right all along and Loki had been far too blind to realize it. He had been blinded by his love for Tony to believe that their relationship could have been a lie. But now he had real proof; he was in a bleak white room, had been for weeks on end, and no one was coming for him. Tony wasn't coming for him.

"Sweetie, I'm sorry; I'm so, so sorry." Bucky reached forward and cupped his cheeks with calloused hands. "I'm sorry he couldn't love you. But I can, I can. You just watch me."

Emotions, far too many to count, overwhelmed Loki then; anger, hurt, hate, denial, and confusion whipped through his head at an alarming speed, which made him feel physically ill. He felt like he might very well vomit, after all. The food in his belly felt much too heavy now and he wanted it out of him as soon as possible.

The only thing that seemed to keep him grounded was those endlessly blue eyes. There was something strangely calming about them. And if truth be told blue was far better than brown anyway.


	12. Chapter Eleven :: Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I was going on hiatus then I wrote another chapter. Go figure.

* * *

 

**Chapter Eleven :: Tony**

 

* * *

 

The room was devoid of any personal effects, although it looked very much lived in. Manila folders were stacked high upon the beaten up desk, while others spilled onto the floor chaotically. Tony warily inspected every nook and cranny, before he shot Rhodey an ever warier look.

It was Rhodey who suggested that they come here. Supposedly he had known the head of the operation through mutual acquaintances twice removed, and believed that this was the only option. And Tony was desperate enough to choose a private investigator's help, seeing as the NYPD still wouldn't assist him properly.

Loki had been officially missing for sixteen days, and there wasn't any clue to his whereabouts still. It was as if he vanished into thin air; an entity that Tony had somehow conjured up inside his own mind. Seeing as even a nationally televised press conference hadn't garnered any viable information; not to mention the spat Loki's mother had gotten into with Pepper on that joke of a news show on Fox.

Of course, there had been a slew of tips that funneled into Stark Industries. There had been many individuals that claimed to have seen Loki in Bermuda with a bronze skinned body builder. And others that claimed he was in Dubai with a pretty brunette with an impressive bosom. But Tony had discounted every account because he knew they were false. His people knew they were false too; so they hadn't bothered to investigate them properly, since it would have been a huge waste of time anyway.

It remained to be seen if his pursuit for answers through a private detective would be any better, though. But something told Tony that the severe man with an eye patch was the type that pursued every case with scary vigor. Which was exactly what Tony needed in this instance; he needed someone relentless that would find Loki.

"Mr. Fury," Rhodey extended his hand out to the one-eyed man, who took it and gave it a brief shake. "I imagine you know why we're here."

"It would be impossible not to. Mr. Stark, I only wish we could have met under different circumstances. I'm Nick Fury."

"Sorry if I'm not up for introductions. So let's get to the meat of the situation – can you help me find Loki or not?" Tony said, somehow maintaining his cool despite being anything but.

The weight of the past sixteen days was a constant point of stress for him. He volleyed between innumerable thoughts; most of which had taken on a grimmer outlook of late. And on top of that, he was experiencing never-ending guilt over the fight that had caused Loki to leave in the first place.

This had all come to pass because of him. He had downright refused to marry Loki, and it would be his fault if anything horrible had happened to him. And he would never forgive himself for that; hell, he wasn't sure if he could survive if anything awful happened to Loki.

"I don't know how much Colonel Lieutenant Rhodes has told you about me or my organization." Nick Fury looked thoughtful, before motioning to a middle-aged man in a crumpled suit and a beautiful redhead with an emotionless face standing close-by. "Each of us has had experience in law enforcement; Romanoff defected from Russia six years ago and has certain _skills_ which has made her an asset in many of ours cases. Whereas Coulson had formerly been in the FBI for almost eleven years, so as you can see Mr. Stark we are highly qualified to find Mr. Odinson."

Tony couldn't deny the information, no matter how vague, put some of his reservations to bed. Of course, he had known Rhodey wouldn't lead him astray either. He wouldn't have suggested coming to SHIELD (an acronym for something, although Tony couldn't say for what) if he hadn't thought they were qualified for the job.

"I don't want to waste any time, so what do you need from me?"

"The details about the night Mr. Odinson went missing, which includes the tiniest and most insignificant of details. If you can remember them, of course,"

"I have a photographic memory, so that won't be a problem. Ask whatever you want."

"Let's have a seat first." Nick Fury motioned towards the other end of the room where two leather sofas that had seen better days were situated.

Without any hesitation, the group shifted to seat themselves, while Nick Fury headed for his desk to roll his executive's chair and pull it up between the sofas. Tony plopped unceremoniously down onto the nearest sofa and Rhodey sat beside. Romanoff and Coulson sat opposite them; and Coulson was quick to pull out a small notepad, similar to ones that were popular with journalists twenty years ago.

Something about the appearance of a notepad made Tony bristle. Despite having lived a very public life, he didn't want everyone becoming the wiser to some of the more intimate details of his personal life. Pepper had already exposed a wealth of information in her tell-all book. No less his former assistant who caused his affair with Loki to become public in the first place; so he wanted to avoid any leaks before they sprung.

"Hold on a second." He lifted his hand and looked to Fury. "There's a matter of confidentiality here."

"Anything you might say in this room is confidential, Mr. Stark. Coulson is only going to record the details of this discussion for our own uses in locating Mr. Odinson. We aren't in the business of selling things to gossip publications."

"Trust me, Mr. Fury if you're lying about that you'll regret it."

"We can talk about how much we'll rue the day if any details of this conversation becomes public later. With all due respect, Mr. Odinson has been missing for over two weeks; it's high time someone properly investigate this." Fury said mildly, although it needled underneath Tony's skin. "So please, if you will, tell us what happened the last time you'd seen Mr. Odinson."

"It was a Wednesday; I remember I had a business meeting with an investor from Frankfurt. We had a late lunch and I didn't come home until almost six o'clock that evening." Tony recited, as if he was reading a narrative from a classic novel instead of telling his own story. "When I got home, Loki was already there; he had that look on his face, the sort that means we needed to have a long-winded conversation. And I remember being worried by it; I figured something bad had happened with some sleaze-ball reporter."

On the edge of his peripheral, Tony watched Coulson jot robotically onto his notepad; never breaking stride, unless he had to flip the page. Romanoff, on the other hand, seemed uninterested by his story; although her eyes remained on him nonetheless.

"Anyway, it had been a sleaze-ball reporter but with the usual bullshit. Whenever Loki so much steps foot into the city, the whole goddamn cavalry will be on him; but it's normal – it's _our_ normal now."

"What happened specifically?"

"One of those assholes had started flinging insults at Loki. Calling him a home-wrecker and a gold digger and called him a high class fag; really derogatory bullshit. And trust me I wasn't happy about it either; if I found the son of a bitch, I'd personally knock every single one of his teeth out of his fucking skull." Tony swallowed. "Obviously Loki was incensed, so while I poured myself a drink he went onto this huge tirade; before he mentioned something about getting married."

That part of the evening was particularly vivid to Tony. Anytime the discussion about marriage came up it was bound to be a pain in the ass; which proved to be the understatement of the year. Everything had happened because of that argument.

It was only recently that Loki had thought up that harebrained idea of getting married, and for the most part Tony could make up an excuse and get away without having a truly in-depth conversation about it. While they had had various arguments about the topic, Tony hadn't been exactly forthcoming with his desire to remain unwed. And he suspected Loki sensed him holding back too.

"It wasn't the first time we discussed it. But this time Loki was emphatic about it and I tried to talk reason into him. Well, it didn't work because he stormed out and here we are today."

"If I may," Romanoff finally spoke in an emotionless tone that suited the expression on her face. "Have you had heated arguments like this before?"

"Too many to count, but there's a routine to the them; whenever Loki and I argue and things become a little too _passionate_ , one of us generally storms out. We might stay away from home for a few hours or even all night. But both of us always come back before ten o'clock in the morning." Tony explained. "Neither of us has ever stayed out for any longer than that."

The three private detectives appeared to be mulling over this information. They shared sideway glances with one another, maybe in a silent attempt to gauge what the others were thinking. Which only caused Tony to develop a bubble of panic in the pit of his stomach; somehow or another, he had managed to keep his wild range of emotions at bay, even when he was by himself. Now, however, every single one of them wanted to burst out of him violently.

God only knew what they were thinking about him, more specifically about _them_. And normally that wouldn't concern him very much, but it did currently. He wanted to know what they thought and if they would turn him away like the NYPD had.

"Why won't you marry Mr. Odinson?" Romanoff asked which blindsided Tony.

"Excuse me?"

"Why wouldn't you marry a man you almost destroyed your company for? Clearly he was worth it to you, so why not make it official?"

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Someone who'll help you locate Loki Odinson. But I need every piece of information I can possibly get, otherwise you're asking for a miracle here."

"What is with everyone?" Tony whipped his head to stare at Rhodey then at Fury and back again. "How the hell does that help an investigation? Why do my reasons for not wanting to marry my partner matter?"

"Every little detail helps, Mr. Stark. While Romanoff doesn't have a very good bedside manner about her; she is only trying to gather as much information as she can. It is important because it could tell us about Mr. Odinson's state of mind, and by proxy we could potentially zero in on his last known whereabouts." Fury explained reasonably, although the anger had yet to subside in Tony.

Everyone seemed to be overly concerned about why he and Loki argued. They wanted to know things that were only known to the two of them. Things that should remain between the two of them, no less; but he was essentially being forced to air out his dirty laundry, as if he hadn't had enough of it two years ago.

Taking in several steady breaths, Tony tried to compose himself as much as possible; in the very least outwardly. He didn't have any desire to expose himself any further than he already had, albeit he would if it meant there was any chance on locating Loki somehow. He would just have to trust SHIELD and put his faith behind them.

"We've discussed it beforehand like I already told you. Loki thinks that if we get married, the media scrutiny will go away. But he also mentioned that he wants to marry me because he loves me."

"So why not marry him?" Romanoff pressed.

"Because I don't want to get married; I might have proposed to Pepper but we never made it down the aisle. There are too many complicated factors to marriage that I don't want to deal with. Besides I already made my commitment known to Loki and the whole world. Isn't that official enough?"

"Spurred lover," Coulson said suddenly. "Logical place to look would be at a bar. He went to drink away his sorrows."

"There are thousands of bars in the city." Romanoff added in unhelpfully.

"It's a matter of elimination." Fury crossed his arms over his chest, easily capturing everyone's attention once more. "What do we know about Loki Odinson? He is a well-known paparazzi magnet, so he probably made a backdoor getaway from Stark Tower."

"He did; I have the video footage from my AI, which is the last known footage of him anywhere."

"We also know he has expensive taste, so it's highly doubtful he would have gone to a regular bar." Romanoff chimed in once more.

"So we're looking for a swanky Manhattan bar, in close proximity to Stark Tower. Coulson, look up every bar in a five mile radius; once you got the list then split it between you and Romanoff. Someone was bound to have seen the guy, and maybe they just need their minds to be re-jogged."

"I'm on it, boss." Coulson shut his notepad then, before he hurried to his feet and crossed the room at record speed.

Tony shifted in his seat and watched Coulson leave the room; only to turn back and eye both Fury and Romanoff. They were sharing a look that was indiscernible to outside sources, and seemed to suggest there was a lot more they weren't telling him still.

"I'll be honest with you, Mr. Stark; we might be barking up the wrong tree here."

"Don't even suggest to me that Loki purposely ran off or I'll-"

"It's apparent to me and Romanoff that that isn't the case. But we also know that it wasn't a kidnapping either. If that was the case, you would have already been contacted and a ransom demand would have made it your way. No less, when you got on television and made your plea."

"What are you trying to say then?"

"Mr. Stark, your partner's been missing for sixteen days. The likelihood that he's even still alive is highly unlikely. The only two scenarios that I can imagine will happen are the following: one, he either was injured in some way and is now potentially suffering from a bout of amnesia; which is more like some soap opera than real life. Or two, the most likely scenario, he is no longer alive; and it'll be a stretch that we can even find his body." Fury explained, although there wasn't any sign of sympathy on his face; he was simply matter-of-fact about it.

Tony chuckled weakly and dropped his eyes, so he was looking down at his professionally pressed trousers. Of course the macabre had crossed his mind beforehand. In fact, he had dreamt that the police had found Loki in a dumpster somewhere. But he refused to give up hope; he couldn't give up hope or he'd do something stupid and drastic.

"With all due respect, he isn't dead. I would know if he was dead; I would have felt it somehow. No, Loki's out there somewhere and you'll find him, Mr. Fury. You'll find him and you'll bring him back to me, and you'll never have to work another day of your life, if you don't want to. Because I'll give you every last penny I have. And all you have to do is bring him back to me." He raised his eyes to look at Fury again, and felt some relief by the determination he saw in that one eye.

Something told him that Nick Fury would be the one to find Loki, and he would do everything in his power to see that come true. Tony could only hope that he wouldn't be too late, that Fury would find him in time. Because even his hope was beginning to slip, and it killed him inside to even imagine a world without Loki. It would literally kill him.


	13. Chapter Twelve :: Bucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to "This Tornado Loves You" by Neko Case and "Black Moon" by Wilco a lot.

* * *

 

**Chapter Twelve :: Bucky**

 

* * *

 

The nightmares brought him here; there wasn't any other feasible explanation for it. He hadn't even bothered to equip himself with the stun gun; instead he had climbed out of bed and padded towards the solid and unmovable door off the main floor of his apartment. Somehow or another, he had retrieved the keys from his box of mementos underneath his bed, and was inserting the right key into the lock.

He was vulnerable; if Loki chose to attack him currently, he would have easily been overpowered. Maybe Loki would even kill him if he was lucky. So at least this never-ending roller coaster would finally come to an end. The emotional strain of living day by day was becoming too much to handle, which was further exasperated by the fact that Loki refused to love him.

Despite the breakthrough that they had made only the day before, Bucky didn't believe Loki loved Tony Stark any less. He was still under the billionaire's spell, and it would only be a matter of time before everything fell apart anyway. Something was bound to give; things couldn't continue like this forever. The rational side of him knew that, although it was easily eclipsed by the not-so rational side of him.

The not-so rational side seemed to make up much of his personality nowadays. It was a relentless presence at the forefront of his mind; one he knew was wrong but one he couldn't banish entirely either. He wanted it to go away and yet he feared that was becoming a part of him, that it would eventually consume every sane piece of his mind.

Steve had been convinced it was PTSD. Maybe it was too, but Bucky couldn't say for certain if his mind had been compromised by the war or not. He had done unspeakable things; he'd been a sniper, after all. The death toll had exceeded his expectations, and the blood on his hands would never wash away entirely. Whether or not he'd done it for his country or not was irrelevant. He had still killed and killed until the total was enough to make him nauseous.

But he had dealt with it; he kept that dark and warped part of him hidden behind a sunny smile and an easy laugh. The demons had been contained; locked away in a place that only reared its ugly head at nighttime. Where it could ravage the safety nets he erected around himself, and it could wreak havoc in every way imaginable on both his mind and body.

Sleep never came easily for him anymore. Lucid thought seemed even more fleeting over the past few years. Because really what sane person would have conjured up a plan to kidnap a grown man, convinced that he could make aforementioned grown man happy through imprisonment and intimidation?

Shakily Bucky turned the key in the lock, and tried to calm the war inside his head. It was becoming difficult to find even ground nowadays, but for now he felt almost like himself again. The guy that could charm anyone at the drop of a hat, the one that Steve and Peggy and the greater portion of Brooklyn had been so fond of; and the same guy that Loki Odinson had confided in at that swanky little bar weeks ago.

Pushing open the door and pocketing the keys, he peered into the brightly lit but barren room. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the sterile lighting, before his gaze zeroed in on Loki. Loki was huddled in his favorite corner of the room with that scratchy blanket wrapped around him like a barrier; as if that would keep him safe from the madness that stampeded through Bucky's mind.

Unfortunately, neither of them was safe from that travesty. Bucky found that he couldn't control himself more often than not, and the headaches were seemingly becoming a regular occurrence now. Sometimes they were crippling, although only a handful had made him physically ill.

Loki peered up at him with an indiscernible expression on his face, which could very well be a bad thing. For all Bucky knew, he was plotting a way to overpower him and flee. And if that happened there was only one outcome for Bucky. In his memento box underneath his bed was a .38 revolver, which he had frequently pondered about using.

Several months ago he had gotten close to ending it all. He had put the barrel in his mouth, swept away in the delirium of his mind; only to be drawn away from the edge at the very last second. Steve had come out of nowhere like a white knight, but instead of shining armor, he'd been in a crumpled button-up and coffee and blood spattered slacks with a bag of donuts in one hand.

Steve hadn't realized he had stopped his suicide attempt; if he had known, Bucky would have been hospitalized and forced under Steve's relentless care. It was bad enough that Steve had suggested once or twice already that it would be better for the both of them if they lived together. But Bucky knew better; he would only be a burden on Steve, and there was no way he'd be anyone's burden. He'd never been one (besides the state's as an orphan) and he wasn't about to become one either.

"Bucky," Loki said his name softly, almost in a pious way.

The only time anyone said his name like that was in the throes of passion. Women, too innumerable to count, and some men as well, would say his name as if it were a mantra. So long ago he had been a deity; he'd been strong and self-assured and beloved. Now, however, he was a hollowed out shell; he wasn't the James B. Barnes of old.

Wordlessly he padded closer to Loki, before he crumbled onto his knees in front of him. He was exhausted not only from his lack of sleep, but absolutely everything. The nightmares would never go away; the blood he spilled would never dry, and no one could possibly save him. At some point he thought Loki could; once he'd gotten Loki to love him, things were supposed to end up better. But even that wasn't feasible anymore; at least to the sane part of his brain.

"I'm tired." He mumbled, which seemed to bore heavily down on his head.

"Have you gone to bed yet?"

"Yes and no."

"There's only one answer to that." Loki tilted his head, and appeared to be studying him; maybe imagining the ways he could end him for good.

Bucky could tell him how to fix things too. It would only be too easy to tell Loki about the gun; the door was still open, so Loki could get it without any obstacles standing in his way. And he could come back and press the barrel to the back of his head, and pull the trigger.

Everything would stop then. The unusual thoughts and never-ending ponderings and the scary parts of him would end. Loki could go home to Tony Stark, and everyone could pretend like none of this had happened. The world would be better without him; Steve would be too. He had Peggy, after all.

"Sometimes I don't feel like myself anymore." He admitted and stared down at the scuffed cement floor; the cold from it easily cut through the thin fabric of his lounge pants and sent a chill down his spine. "I don't know if I am who I think am anymore. Like someone else is in my head, and they won't leave; they're taking over and there's nothing I can do about it."

"Maybe it's the person you're meant to be." Loki inched closer, seemingly unafraid about being in close proximity with him as he had been before.

To be honest, Bucky was frequently terrified of himself; whenever he became remotely aware of his insanity. No one should want to be anywhere near him. He was dangerous; a product of a thankless and pointless war, and a darkness that was slowly covering him up completely.

"This could be your only chance, you know." Bucky stared into Loki's eyes. "I have nothing on me; the door's open. You could run and I wouldn't stop you. Not now anyway; maybe five minutes from now, maybe less. But not now; I can't."

Despite his words, Loki didn't move. He remained in place with the blanket still wrapped securely around him. There was confliction in his eyes, though; a maelstrom of emotions that Bucky couldn't possibly discern even if he wanted to.

"Surely this must be a trick." Loki glanced to the open door and then back at him.

"No, not a trick; but I'd expect you to do something before you go. You'd probably love it too."

"What do you want me to do?"

"You'd deserve to do it." Bucky chuckled weakly.

God only knew how long he would remain remotely clearheaded. He knew it was only a matter of time, before he was swallowed up by his delusions. The ones that wanted Loki so badly and would do anything in his power to keep him; so he needed Loki to leave now, if he ever wanted to be with Tony Stark again and live a happy life. Because Bucky wouldn't let him leave again; he'd keep him like a caged animal for the rest of his life, trying desperately to be loved and only invoking fear instead.

This was Loki's only chance and he needed to grab it by the horns. But he wouldn't; he remained an unmoving entity in front of Bucky with that queer look in his eyes still.

"There's, uh, there's a box under my bed; a cigar box." Bucky looked away and towards the commode on the other side of the room. "Inside is a .38 revolver, already loaded; it would only take one shot if you're good."

"What are you saying?" Loki asked him. "What are you trying to say?"

"You know something's wrong with me. So why not end it? You deserve to be the one to pull the trigger. It's going to happen either way; I'm not going to prison over this."

"I won't kill you, Bucky."

"Okay, that's fine. But you better get out of here, before I change my mind. Because I will change my mind; I already feel like I want to. So go on, scram."

"And what will you do?" Loki suddenly reached out and curled his fingers around the spot just above his elbow; in a surprisingly firm and unshakeable grasp. "What will happen to you after I'm gone?"

"That goes without saying." Bucky smiled, struck by how beautiful Loki truly was at that moment.

Stubble had already begun to sprout from Loki's face once more, and his hair was heavy with oil; but there was nothing more beautiful in the universe to Bucky. Even the lucid part of him knew how special Loki was, and even that part of him wanted to be loved by Loki. It would never happen, though; it couldn't happen.

Loki would have never given him a second glance. He came from money and aristocracy; he spoke with a refined accent, and wore three piece suits and looked like the type to smoke elegantly long cigarettes. Not even on his best day would Bucky ever catch Loki's attention; he wasn't Tony Stark. He couldn't be any further from Tony Stark if he tried.

"I wouldn't want that for you." Loki said.

"That isn't up to you."

"I wouldn't tell anyone; not a word."

"I can't take that risk. Besides it would be better than this." Bucky shook away Loki's hand, and climbed back onto his feet. "So get out of here; go back to Stark."

Within a split-second, Loki was on his feet too; a domineering figure that easily towered over him. So many times Bucky imagined Loki overpowering him and getting away. And now he was giving him the okay to leave; to run away as fast as his feet could take him. Out of Brooklyn and back into Manhattan where he belonged.

"Does he even want me anymore?"

"How should I know?"

"You and I both know he wouldn't have ever left his former fiancée for me." Loki moved closer and no less intimidating, despite the circles under his eyes and the gauntness of his face. "He doesn't care about me. No one cares about me. _You_ are the only one, and you're just going to let me go now?"

"I don't have any other choice." Bucky returned and felt his voice hitch; followed by an awful pain in his chest.

The idea of losing Loki was painful to every one of his sensibilities. He had desperately held onto the thought that Loki could make everything better again. That somehow or another things would make sense again, except everything had gotten worse. Everything was out of control and there was nothing he could do about it, beyond the obvious.

Steve would mourn but he would be okay. Peggy would take care of him; she was an able-body and intelligent woman, after all. She would nurse Steve back to his former self with time. There wasn't any need for him anymore, and that was okay. He was too tired to do anything more than to give up.

"You love me, don't you?" Loki asked in a small voice, which tore Bucky asunder.

"Yeah, yeah I do."

"Then why would you let me go?"

"Because you love _him_ ; you don't love me." He replied with a twinge of something awfully familiar.

There was a slight shift in the tide, but he recognized it nonetheless. He could feel the pressure beginning to build in his head, and an ugly sort of desperation claw its way up his throat. It made him feel ill, yet he somehow held onto the reins for the time being. He could and he would let Loki go, even if he ended up a bloody smudge on the floor in the aftermath of Loki's escape.

"Bucky,"

"Fuck, I'm letting you go! Don't you understand?"

"And you'll be dead."

"That, by the way, doesn't concern you; unless you want to pull the trigger! So go run off and find your fucking boyfriend; get the hell out of here!" Bucky motioned wildly at the door, even though his insides churned in protest.

It wasn't a survival mechanism, though. He didn't care about that; the idea of Loki leaving and returning to someone who didn't give a damn about him was the cause for it. Tony Stark could care less about Loki, and even if Loki knew that now it didn't mean anything. He'd still go back to him in the end; it was apparent even by the wide-eyed and bewildered look on Loki's face.

Regardless of being presented with the opportunity to leave, Loki only reached out and cupped his cheeks that were also stubbly and rough. The contact was enough to take Bucky's breath away, and to drive every maddening thought out of his head for the time being. He felt comfortably numb for those few moments, before he was taken by a tidal wave of desire when Loki pressed his forehead to his.

While he'd touched Loki many times previously, it was never like this. It hadn't been initiated by Loki and it had never been this intimate either. This felt like the sort of contact you would bestow onto a lover, and god only knew how long it had been since Bucky had been touched affectionately like this; too long, really.

Bucky melted into the touch, cherishing the moment. It would be over soon, but for now he could appreciate it and not worry about the complications in which Loki was there in the first place. He could pretend this was normal that _he_ was normal.

"I'm so tired; so, so tired." He mumbled out and closed his eyes tightly.

"Me too," Loki returned, before he drew away and out of Bucky's reach.

Loki didn't venture very far; he plopped back onto the cool cement and took up his blanket once more. But instead of wrapping it around himself as he usually did, he left it beside him and offered a hand to Bucky. Which seemed strangely normal, maybe even domestic in a sense; it was the kind of thing Bucky had craved for, for longer than he could even remember.

Slowly and cautiously, Bucky crouched down again and took the proffered hand. Within moments he was enveloped into a gentle embrace, and felt the scratchy material of the blanket being draped over him. He rested his head against Loki's chest, desperately clinging to the thin material of his tee-shirt, and felt his whole body relax despite the dangers of doing so.

Without so much as a warning, he felt the side effects of his amnesia weigh him down and pull him under a heavy veil of darkness. All the while fully aware of the steady heartbeat under his ear and the soft breathing that came from Loki's lips. He felt content and safe, as if the world (or even that scary part of him) couldn't harm him now.


	14. Chapter Thirteen :: Thor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No comment.

* * *

 

**Chapter Thirteen :: Thor**

 

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The city passed by in a blur of light. Thor couldn't tell one landmark from another; none of them were particularly important anyway. Every day that passed without Loki seemed horribly insignificant, and the suffocating fear that clung to him was unavoidable. It was a heavy burden that no one could carry by themselves.

That would explain why Thor had chosen to finally visit Tony. He hadn't heard from the billionaire in several days, and he wanted to find some reassurance somewhere. Baldur had become positively unbearable with his doom and gloom ideas, and both his parents waffled between the good and the bad every few moments.

The only true support Thor had gotten had been from his fiancée Sif. But even then she couldn't fully understand the weight of Loki's disappearance. Tony was the only one who could relate, and maybe it would be good for the both of them to commiserate over things. They could even exchange ideas on where Loki could potentially be.

Unfortunately, there weren't any sparks of genius in terms of Loki's whereabouts. Thor had searched his brain for hours on end, trying to unearth any conversation that would lead him in the right direction but always coming up short. Loki hadn't left of his own accord; everyone believed as much, which only made every day that much more insufferable.

It was hard to keep the faith, when everything pointed to the worst. In all likelihood, Loki was probably already dead. He might have been a random victim of violence or he might have been targeted due to his high profile. Either way the outcome wasn't bound to be happy; Thor wasn't naïve, but he wanted to be oblivious for a couple hours if he could.

He needed to actively attempt to find Loki, instead of sitting on his hands and waiting for something to give. The police, after all, weren't being very productive in terms of the case. Tony had called them out only a few weeks beforehand. And no matter how much both Tony and the Odinson family pushed, the police commissioner refused to take them seriously. Hell, the world seemed to be under the impression still that Loki had simply run away.

It was frustrating to say the least. Anyone who knew Loki would have known that this sort of behavior was unusual for him. Loki was reliable; even with his trigger-happy mood swings, Loki would always let someone know where he was. He wasn't the flighty individual that the press made him out to be. Nor was he some scummy villain either. Loki was his little brother and always would be; nothing could convince him otherwise.

As the cab slid seamlessly through the busy Manhattan streets, Thor focused onto the densely populated sidewalks. People hurried from one spot to another; some hailing cabs impatiently, while others slipped into nearby businesses. There wasn't anything different about the scene; it was one Thor was all too accustomed with, and yet he couldn't help but scan the crowd in search of Loki.

Loki was a formidable figure, utterly impossible to miss. He towered over most people and he had a startling but striking appearance. If he had been out there, someone would have spotted him and caused a ruckus. Everywhere Loki went nowadays ended with a mob of photographers and nosy reporters around him. And anyone with an ounce of sense would have already reported a sighting to Stark Industries.

That, however, didn't deter Thor from overlooking the crowd; desperate in his hope that he would see someone that even remotely resembled his brother. Yet there was no one quite like him; there wasn't a willowy black-haired man who walked as if royalty. There wasn't anyone that could part the crowd as he strode by; which was disheartening to say the least.

Soon enough the cab switched lanes, before gliding towards the curb in front of some of the flashiest skyscrapers in the city. Stark Tower was especially unique (some called it gaudy) amid the metal and glass and buttery yellow lights. It was officially the third tallest building in New York, whose sign was an icy blue that was both oddly welcoming and intimidating.

Thor had only been in Stark Tower once beforehand. When the public had become the wiser to Tony's involvement with Loki, it had become an insufferable circus. Loki had all but been forced to leave his apartment and take refuge with Tony; even if that caused even further mass hysteria. Thor had visited Loki during that time, determined to convince Loki to return to London until things had settled down some. But Loki was notoriously hardheaded and refused to listen to reason, and caused even more media attention to bore down on Tony and Loki alike.

Absentmindedly, Thor slipped the cabbie a bill and told him to keep the change. He then stepped into the brisk evening air and made his way towards the front of the building. Numerous business types ran in and out of the rotary doors; most of which were loudly yapping away on their mobile phones, while others were quick to hail any cab racing down the street.

The mayhem only extended inward; within the lobby of the building, there were more people whose voices ranged from near shouting to a regular decibel. Thor passed through the commotion, already zeroing in on his destination. Loki had passed on the passcode for the private elevator which would take anyone in possession of it to the penthouse.

There were very few people who were given access to the penthouse, and for very good reason. Tony didn't permit anyone who worked for him to enter his personal space any longer; due to the fact that it was the cause of everything. Tony's former assistant had ambled into the penthouse and found Tony and Loki engaged in a heated embrace, and had taken the news to the closest newspaper she could find.

Within moments, Thor stepped towards the private lift a distance away from the rest of the elevators. He tapped the code (that he memorized on the way there) into keypad beside the doors, and was pleased that it had taken almost immediately. The doors slid open to expose a small compartment, which he stepped into and was confined in moments later.

_"Good evening, Mr. Odinson."_ Tony's AI greeted him genially as the lift rumbled underneath his feet and began to rise. _"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance once more."_

"Hello, um, I'm sorry I've seem to have forgotten your name."

_"Pardon my manners sir, I am JARVIS."_

"Hello, JARVIS."

_"Have you any news on the other Mr. Odinson if you don't mind my asking; sir's Mr. Odinson to be more precise?"_ JARVIS asked without any discernible inflection, but it struck a chord in Thor nonetheless.

Various times throughout the day, the weight of Loki's disappearance became difficult to bear. Something had a way of triggering that hopelessness inside Thor and JARVIS's words seemed to have that effect on him now.

"Unfortunately not; I was hoping Stark would have some information for me."

_"There haven't been any new developments, I'm afraid."_

"I thought so." Thor crossed his arms over his chest, and tried not to slip too deeply into a pit of despair; one that was becoming more commonplace nowadays.

Thankfully he was spared any further time alone with his thoughts. The lift lurched underneath his feet and came to a halt. It took only a moment, before the doors rolled open to reveal the luxurious accommodations in which Tony and Loki called home; almost too luxurious for Thor's taste.

Thor stepped into the penthouse and noticed the two people who'd taken refuge at the fully equipped bar on the other side of the room. The discovery was enough to knot up his insides. He hadn't expected to see Tony entertaining Virginia Potts of all people and especially currently. But there she was in a form fitting white dress and impossibly tall high heels, and lounging on a stool as if she hadn't ever left the confines of the penthouse two years ago. Tony was behind the bar with a glass in one hand, while the other was mid-motion in some rambunctious gesture.

Whatever conversation that had been taking place ended abruptly. Tony gaped at him for a few moments, until he regained some semblance of composure. He set down his glass with unneeded force, and hurried to round the bar; almost in a way that suggested that Tony was afraid that Thor would return to the lift and leave without hearing any explanation.

"Thor, buddy!" Tony called out to him. "I didn't know you were coming."

_"If I may intercede, sir; you told me not to bother you while you were speaking with Miss Potts."_

"I thought I would drop by and see if you heard anything about Loki. Clearly I should have made an appointment; I wouldn't have imagined you'd still be chummy with your ex-fiancée who had the gall to say unsavory things about my brother less than a week ago." Thor couldn't control the anger in his voice.

Virginia Potts had been nothing short of a menace when it came to Loki. She had dragged him relentlessly through the mud; portrayed him as a home wrecker and a whore. Any opportunity that she had gotten, she had ripped him apart. And now Tony was hosting her like they were the best of friends. Or maybe Thor had walked into a romantic reunion, which was ten times worse.

That thought alone only fueled his anger even more. If he ever wanted to teach Tony a lesson beforehand, he definitely wanted to now. How could he possibly want to spend an evening with his ex after the tell-all book and hundreds of interviews that marred his reputation? It didn't make any sense, especially when Loki was currently missing.

"It's not what you think, I promise." Tony raised his hands. "Yes, there has been a lot of bad blood between me and Pepper over the past two years. But there's still a lot of history between us, and we're trying to work things out; platonically, of course."

"Isn't this the worst time to make amends?"

"No, not exactly," Virginia, more commonly referred to as Pepper, added in smoothly. "In fact, this is the perfect opportunity to put this nasty business behind us."

"You're the cause of this nasty business."

"Actually, I'm not. Tony and your brother were the cause of it. I might have publicized the hell out of it, but they deserved it. Don't tell me you would go down quietly if your fiancé of eight years had fallen into bed with a young PR representative from a rival company." Pepper rose to her feet and walked towards them with unwavering confidence; the confidence of a seasoned CEO.

Thor wanted nothing more to retort meanly, especially when he took into account the awful things Pepper had said during her appearance on that Fox news program not even a week earlier. Yet he managed to hold his tongue, and waited to hear whatever explanation Tony was bound to give him for this unexpected meeting.

"So you're sitting here making up with your ex, while my brother's still missing."

"You don't even know what's going on right now." Tony said in obvious exasperation. "I hired a group of private detectives recently to find Loki. And trust me; I paid them a small fortune to find him. They'll definitely find him; I have every confidence that they will."

"That doesn't explain _this_! Didn't you see that she was on a cable news show saying horrible things about you, Loki, and my family?"

"That was before she knew about the severity of the situation." Tony frowned. "Pepper never wanted anything bad to happen to Loki. She might not like him, but she wouldn't wish any harm on him. If there's one thing I know about her it's that."

Despite the confidence in which Tony spoke those words, Thor found he didn't believe it. Hell, he found it impossible to want to stay in the same room as either of them. God only knew what was transpiring behind closed doors. Maybe Loki's disappearance proved to be a stepping stone for Tony to make his way back into Pepper's good graces.

Disgust and anger quickly overwhelmed him. Regardless of the history that Tony and Pepper shared, it wasn't enough to erase all the awful things that had been said and done. Pepper had ruined Loki's reputation; Loki could no longer work in public relations, when his whole life was a joke. Loki's very existence had been turned upside down by the affair, and Pepper would not let it go. She refused to.

"Good luck with your decision on making up with your former fiancée, Stark. I think you'll need all the help you can get, since you've chosen to sleep in a viper's nest. And don't worry our family will find Loki; the people who truly care about his welfare."

"That isn't fair, Thor. Just because I'm talking to Pepper again doesn't mean I care any less about Loki. I love him and you know that."

"Tell him that once he finds out about how friendly you've gotten with your ex while he was still missing." Thor snarled, as he turned on his heel and headed towards the lift once more.

He slapped his hand against the down button, and only had to wait a few seconds before the doors opened and permitted him access back into the lift. His emotions were a jumbled mess, although he felt even greater anger as Pepper pressed a comforting hand against Tony's arm, and leaned into him.

"I told you the Odinson family was unreasonable." She said just as the lift's doors shut, which only served to worsen Thor's mood further.

Even if he wanted nothing more than to inform his family of this newest revelation, Thor knew all too well that it would only cause further problems. His mother couldn't take the stress of another disappointment, especially when she had put much of her faith into Tony. So he would keep Tony's secret for now, but once they found Loki (which they would), he would tell his brother directly and let him decide if Tony Stark was truly worth all the heartache he'd been through for all these years. And something told him Tony wasn't worth it at all.


	15. Chapter Fourteen :: Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just have a lot of Steve feelings nowadays.

* * *

 

**Chapter Fourteen :: Steve**

 

* * *

 

The building was mostly abandoned. If Steve remembered correctly there were a total of four tenants currently staying in the once lively apartment complex (although he could have been wrong); one of which was Bucky. He climbed the cement steps onto the narrow stoop, and pushed in the door into the poorly lit foyer.

The upkeep of the building had fallen to the wayside; the carpet was thread-barren and in need of a good vacuuming, while the stairwell groaned and creaked with the smallest distribution of weight. Steve quickly led the way to the second story, unable to disregard Peggy's commentary as they ascended. Especially since every word had started to reflect his ever-mounting concerns.

Bucky really shouldn't have been left to his own devices. He had proven himself untrustworthy in the terms of his own personal health, and god only knew what they would find behind his apartment door today. Steve suspected it would not be pleasant, considering it hadn't been so many times before.

There was a good possibility that Bucky had gone without food for days. Or he might have even neglected his personal hygiene and was potentially unshaven and unbathed, but hostile all the same if Steve suggested he clean himself up. Bucky didn't appreciate being told what to do. Then again he never had, even if it was for his own good.

"Steve this is absolutely unacceptable," Peggy hissed out, once they made it to the second story landing. "Someone who is as mentally unhealthy as Bucky should not be living in a nearly abandoned building without any ties to the outside world. This is only exacerbating his condition further."

"It wasn't this bad the last time I visited." Steve replied, although he couldn't say if that exactly true or not.

Steve had been preoccupied the last time he had visited. There was always a case that took precedent over his personal life, and every case had a way of clouding his vision. So maybe the apartment complex had been this badly tattered the last time he visited, and he had been none the wiser about it; which only fueled his already heavy guilt even more.

"He will not spend another day here." Peggy openly scowled, before she chose to take the lead instead.

The hallway was dimly light and dreary. Dust mushroomed from the carpet with every step they took in the direction of Bucky's apartment. Bucky was the only one who lived on this particular floor and the whole environment seemed to reflect as much.

Within moments Peggy had reached the door that read 211 and rapped on it. Her pretty face had scrunched up in determination, as if she was prepared to manually pull Bucky out of his apartment and wrestle him all the way across the Atlantic if she had to. Steve wouldn't be surprised if she attempted to either, although her level of success would undoubtedly be low.

"James Buchanan Barnes, I demand you open this door this instant!" Peggy demanded, as she knocked once more and with an even greater force. "I will not leave until you do so. And if you refuse, I will get the proper authorities involved. Surely you already know that Steve has friends in your local precinct; they'll only be too happy to check on your welfare if he asks them to."

"Peggy threats aren't going to work."

"That isn't a threat, Steve. I will call the police, and trust me if I do, they'll determine Bucky is no condition to live by himself. They might even hospitalize him, especially if he shows any of his eccentricities as he commonly does."

"We're trying to help him; that was the point of this whole visit!"

"And you don't think hospitalization would be a step in the right direction?"

"Not around here, no," Steve said grimly.

Despite his zealous patriotism, Steve couldn't deny how the health care system was broken in America. Bucky couldn't possibly afford to be hospitalized, no less receive the treatment he needed. In fact, Bucky would be better off not getting any help at all; particularly if it meant losing much of his worldly possessions in exchange for inadequate care.

Of course, Steve would do everything in his power to ensure Bucky received the best treatment that he could. But he preferred the idea of Bucky seeing someone in London in comparison; if only to get him away from the toxic environment that he had built around him. New York wasn't doing him any favors, Peggy was right about that.

"Whether you choose to believe it or not, Bucky should be under a doctor's supervision immediately. If that means transferring him to London, we'll cover the costs. But you aren't doing him any good by letting him wallow in this dilapidated building with no one for company." Peggy narrowed her eyes at him, before she banged several more times on the door.

Before he could properly retort, probably even defend himself against the almost accusatory tone in Peggy's voice, the door creaked open and halted any further exchange that might have taken place between the two of them.

On the other side of the door was Bucky, unkempt with blood shot eyes. For the briefest of moments, he didn't seem to compute who they were; his gaze was blank of any recollection, although his eyes soon brightened a bit and reminded Steve of the Bucky of old; the Bucky who had loved loud parties and dancing and who could seduce any woman in his path, if he truly wanted to.

Words seemed to elude Steve, as he took in Bucky's raggedy appearance. There was no doubt about it, Bucky needed help and needed it now. He looked like he hadn't slept in days and probably hadn't eaten in longer than that. But he did smell clean, regardless of the state of his hair which was sticking up every which way.

"Aren't the English supposed to be a quiet people?" Bucky mumbled, as he raked his fingers through the mayhem on top of his head.

"Bucky Barnes how dare you refuse to see me; I've come all this way just for you."

"Well, sweetheart we should go dancing then and leave this square behind."

"Bucky," Steve breathed out, momentarily convinced that it was the real Bucky in front of him. But the illusion was already beginning to crack to reveal a tired and unstable guy that once was Steve's rambunctious best friend.

Bucky eyed him suspiciously, before he slid the door open further to reveal his apartment. Surprisingly it was in good condition; some of the knick-knacks had been displaced or stored away. But otherwise things looked fairly well-maintained unlike the rest of the building.

"Well, warden I know you want to check out the premises."

"This isn't any place for a person to live, Bucky." Peggy said, even if the state of Bucky's apartment said differently.

"It's peaceful."

"How much peace does one person need?"

"Living in Brooklyn, a lot," Bucky granted them access into the apartment, although he seemed to tense for a split-second when they stepped across the threshold.

Steve quickly took inventory of the large room, much of which looked unlived in; well besides the desk positioned behind the sofa that had an empty orange juice container on top of it and numerous pieces of paper. Nothing remotely suspicious stuck out, although nothing suspicious should have stuck out either. This was Bucky's home not a perp's, after all.

It was almost too easy to slip into detective mode, though. It was probably even worse since he had been away from the job for a while. Maybe he just wanted some kind of mystery to solve, although he was certain nothing would be found in Bucky's apartment.

"Find anything you want to nitpick about?"

"Not about the apartment, no," Peggy zeroed in on Bucky then. "Steve and I have had discussed things at length-"

"Discussed what exactly?"

"Your welfare, Bucky," Steve intervened, if only to take the brute of his best friend's anger; which he suspected would be rather magnificent, when it was unleashed.

There wasn't any immediate reaction. Bucky looked in between Steve and Peggy, although still there was nothing forthcoming. The silence that fell between them was uncomfortable and heavy, and felt like a wet blanket that had been tossed over their heads.

"There's nothing wrong with me." Bucky finally said, but with a dangerous edge to his voice. "Just because I'm not running around to every bar in the city, doesn't mean there's something wrong."

"Your personality has changed over the years, James." Peggy interjected, before she reached forward and placed a hand on his arm. "Maturing and changing interests is one thing, but you've locked yourself away completely from the whole world. You rarely even see Steve too."

"Oh you mean super detective here?" Bucky motioned dismissively at Steve. "He's too busy saving the world; he doesn't have any time to hang out. But trust me; I'm not vying for his attention either. I actually have things to do, even if you don't believe it. I have a job; a life."

The hostility that radiated off Bucky was palpable. Steve would be the first to admit to the fact that his job had become his number one priority in his life, followed shortly by Peggy. In all likelihood, he had simply neglected his friendship with Bucky and had become attached to the hip with his partner Clint instead. So in a way he deserved that jab, if not more.

"Buck I know the past few years have been busy, but you have to admit something's changed. Not just with everyone around you, but with you too. Something's wrong and you need help."

"I don't need any help. What I need is for you two to stop acting like you're my goddamn parents. I'm an adult and don't need anyone to check up on me."

"We care about you!" Peggy raised her voice, almost on the verge of sounding shrill.

"Yeah, well maybe I don't need your concern! So why don't you and Stevie boy go home now!"

"Bucky please,"

"No, I want you out of here! You don't have any fucking jurisdiction here! And I'm not doing anything illegal, so get the hell out of here already! And keep your concern to yourself from now on! I mean it Steve, so help me God!" Bucky roared in a decibel that would have had the authorities on their way, had Bucky had any next door neighbors.

There had only been a few times that Bucky had ever raised his voice in Steve's proximity, and there had only been one time in particular in which the anger was directed towards him. Steve had been a scrawny kid growing up, but his size hadn't taught him any self-preservation. He had oftentimes thrown himself head-first into unwinnable fights, and Bucky had to save him more often than not.

During one such fight, he had almost been kicked to death, which led to Bucky screaming bloody murder at him. But that had been out of concern (rightfully so too), whereas this, this was undiluted fury. This wasn't the Bucky he had known since childhood; nor was this the Bucky who had flirted with Peggy only a few minutes ago.

Wordlessly Steve reached for Peggy's hand, effectively silencing any argument she might have had in terms of Bucky's outburst. That would only exacerbate the situation even more, and if he wanted to stay somewhat involved in Bucky's life; he would have to respect his current demands. He would have to, in the very least, pretend as if he was going to back down.

"I'm sorry, Buck." He said as calmly as he could muster without sounding insincere. "We didn't mean any harm; we were just worried. But you're right, there's nothing wrong. So we're going to head out now, and if it's okay with you; I'd like to call you up and check in on you in a day or two."

"Steve,"

"That's enough Peggy. We shouldn't have stepped over our boundaries. Bucky has every right to be angry with us, and we're going to respect his choices. If he wants us to leave, we will." Steve shot her a meaningful look, which she seemed to understand.

Bucky didn't attempt to stop them either, as they turned to the door and walked the short distance to it. He did, however, follow after them; easily becoming a barrier between them and the rest of the apartment. It was a defensive stance, as if he was trying to protect something from their eyes. Or maybe he was simply trying to protect himself from the aggressive approach that they had launched at him.

Something didn't bode well with Steve, though; the detective side of him was practically shooting off flares and yelling at him to look around harder and find what was suddenly and very apparently amiss. Maybe if he had gotten a few more minutes inside the apartment, he would have seen something unusual and out of place. But he never got that opportunity; Bucky made sure to escort them out the door and without a goodbye, he slammed it was shut behind them, followed shortly by several locks being fastened in a rush.

"Give him a few days." Steve mumbled, although he didn't know if he was speaking to Peggy or himself. "He'll cool down by then, and we'll try again. But we'll be smarter with our approach the next time."

"I knew this would be complicated, but I never expected this."

"Bucky always had to be difficult, that's his MO." Steve started down the hallway with Peggy's hand still in his, and was fully aware of the unease he was currently feeling.

When they were safely away, Steve wanted to question Peggy about some of her former concerns about Bucky's behavior. And hopefully they could come up with a strategy in which would garner positive results. But until then, Steve would have to brood on things he had undoubtedly missed and hope he hadn't missed anything crucial.


	16. Chapter Fifteen :: Loki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been sitting on a partially written chapter for months, hoping that I could use it. That didn't happen; I had to rewrite it multiple times and this was the final product.

* * *

 

**Chapter Fifteen :: Loki**

 

* * *

 

The commotion died down eventually, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Loki stared unseeingly at the bedroom door; too terrified to do much of anything than stay stationary on the foot of the bed. He could have done something more; he could have saved himself. It would have only taken a cry for help; a loud and shrill noise to let someone, anyone known that he was peril and being held against his will.

He had contemplated that once he'd been ushered into the bedroom by Bucky. They had been lounging, almost companionably, on the couch when the knock came. So he had had every opportunity to get away. Hell, he'd been left unsupervised in a room with a weapon; he could have easily killed Bucky without a thought against the contrary. But he hadn't done any of it; he couldn't do it.

Freedom from Bucky had been the endgame ever since he'd been captured. He had wanted nothing more than to break away from his prison cell, and return to the people that loved him. He wanted to run back to Tony as quickly as his feet would take him. God only knew that he could have too. He could have been in Tony's arms at that very moment, if only he screamed.

Something held him back, though. Dark thoughts that curdled any hope he had left, wound their way around his happy memories and poisoned what he held dear. His relationship with Tony had been put into perspective; forced underneath the red hot light of scrutiny, and now Loki was left with the very real possibility that he was unwanted.

The more he contemplated the past few months, the more he saw hairline fractures in the foundation of his relationship with Tony. Bucky had raised some fairly valid points as an outsider; as someone who wasn't in Virginia Potts's pocket too. And that was one of the many reasons why he hadn't made a sound.

If he were to be saved by the authorities, what would be waiting for him then? Would Tony be pleased by his rescue or would he be perturbed instead? His mind was torn by those potential outcomes, although he started to believe the worst case scenario.

Bucky had brought up a very important question; one that Loki had completely glossed over, due to the strenuous day-to-day tasks that he had to handle without a moment of reprieve. His status as a pariah had affected his life during every waking moment, and his only comfort had been Tony. Their relationship had been the only thing keeping him propped upright; so much so, he never thought about the what-ifs until now.

Loki didn't know with any certainty if Tony would have chosen him over Pepper Potts. Would Tony have had thrown away so much success and revenue for him? With the way things had unfolded, he hadn't had any choice but to live through the public scrutiny. But if Tony had had a choice, would he have chosen Loki?

It was a no brainer, really. Loki liked to believe he knew Tony fairly well; he especially knew about his ambition when it came to the company. So the conclusion was pretty apparent; if they hadn't been caught by Tony's personal assistant then they would have continued as before. Loki would have been Tony's dirty little secret, while he and Pepper conquered the business world side-by-side.

Stark Industries was Tony's baby. He had thrown himself fully into its operations. Every aspect of the company had somehow been touched by Tony's hands. And it was such a great success because of his relentlessness and ambition. Pepper was also responsible for many of the company's successes too.

No one would have willingly thrown all of that away. Tony wouldn't have let his hard work go to waste for anything or for anyone. That much was evident in hindsight. Which led to one conclusion and one conclusion only – Tony would have stayed with Pepper, maybe even married her if it hadn't been for the scandal coming to light.

The truth hurt; it gnawed away at Loki from the inside-out. Because there wasn't any doubt in his mind about the outcome of their relationship had they remained in the shadows. He would have been nothing more than an easy lay; someone Tony sought out when he wanted a break from his fiancée. He wouldn't have ever ascended to partner status, had the media not gotten involved.

Shakily, Loki ran one of his hands across his face. He had chosen a potential death sentence, life imprisonment possibly, because he couldn't face reality. His life had been reduced to rubble for years now; everything he had built had been torn down by Pepper Potts. And the one thing he had left was a lie.

Why would he go back to that? Why would he ever want to leave this apartment, when he had someone fervently and madly in love with him? The answer was simple – he didn't want to leave. He would never leave; not when there was someone who wanted him and someone who needed him, right here.

Without much warning, beyond the creak of the floorboards; the door opened to reveal a harried looking Bucky. His hair stuck up every which way, as if he'd been running his fingers through it continuously; maybe even pulling at it.

"They're gone now. We're safe." Bucky declared, although he didn't sound relieved by that revelation.

Now that Loki had been given more time outside his cell, he had been able to observe Bucky more and realized some days he had worse than others. Sometimes he could pass for a friendly, charming guy; while others he was angry and uncontrollable, and even sometimes paranoid and suicidal.

Today wasn't a good day.

The unexpected visit they had just received only seemed to exacerbate Bucky's already foul mood. Loki heard very little of the conversation, but what he could ascertain; it seemed like the mystery guests were trying to intervene in the downward spiral that Bucky was currently on. No one could object to the fact that he severely needed help. Quite frankly, someone should have intervened years ago.

"What happened?" He asked as non-threatening as he could so Bucky wouldn't lash out.

"They think I'm crazy; that's the problem!"

"They're only trying to help, I'm sure."

"By flying me to England and letting their head doctors get a hold of me?" Bucky yelled; his eyes went wild and mad. "If they take me to England, what'll happen to you? Who will take care of you?"

Loki didn't reply; he didn't have an answer to that question. After all, he couldn't go back to Tony and returning home to his parents wasn't a possibility. He hadn't any close friends to speak of either. Which meant that he would be all by himself with no one to watch over him; Bucky was the only thing he really had.

They couldn't take him away from him. Bucky couldn't go to England without him, and he couldn't go to England period. The media would be on him in a matter of seconds, and the last thing Bucky needed was flashbulbs and cameras in his face. That would only be detrimental to his already fragile mental health.

"We can't be apart, you know that." Bucky lurched forward and grabbed him by both hands and squeezed. "I'm the only one who can take care of you. I love you; you know that."

Somewhere in the farthest most point in his mind, Loki knew that couldn't be true. Bucky was displaying every sign of a delusional and obsessive stalker. He had already been absolutely certain he was in love with him before they even met. He _kidnapped_ him, and he locked him away in a room until he behaved.

This wasn't love; this wasn't even healthy. He knew that, but it didn't seem to matter anymore. Because this poor, unfortunate creature was begging to be loved; he needed help. But the authorities and the best physicians in the world would only recommend that he be put away where no one could find him. They wouldn't help him at all.

Bucky would be institutionalized; forgotten by the world, once he went into the system. Loki had seen enough opinion pieces and news reports about the state of public health institutions to know what would happen to him. And really, Bucky had only saved him from an unhealthy relationship; that couldn't possibly be a crime, could it?

Slowly, Loki wrapped his fingers around Bucky's hands; which lessened the madness in his eyes a little. The only thing Bucky wanted from him was love, and he had plenty to give. Especially now that he was taking back the truckloads he had showered Tony with.

"No one will take you away." He reassured softly. "We can take care of one another. But you'll have to trust me, Bucky. As much as I've grown to trust you; you'll have to put your faith into me too."

"I trust you, I do. But I don't." Bucky looked conflicted; tortured even by his confession.

God only knew what on earth was going on in his head all the time. Most of the time, Bucky looked completely exhausted; he rarely seemed to sleep. He didn't really eat either. But his hygiene was particularly stellar, as if he was trying to impress Loki somehow.

"We'll take it one day at a time. Rome wasn't built in a day as they say."

"You could have gotten away, you know. You could have screamed and they would have taken you away from me. You could have gone back to _him_."

"Yes, well," Loki furrowed his brow, but didn't have anything else to say. It was like the words had lodged themselves into his throat; similarly to when you were about to cry.

He didn't know what was happening to him anymore. The sane thing to do was try and escape at every cost. He didn't owe this maniac anything. Good riddance if he ended up killing himself; it wouldn't be Loki's problem if he did anyway. And yet he couldn't leave; he couldn't hurt Bucky because he needed him. Bucky loved him like no one else did.

Tony seemed like a grainy memory, in comparison. The life that they had shared was nothing more than a vicious lie. Tony didn't love him like Bucky did. Tony hadn't even bothered to look for him; if he had, he would have already been found. He would have been found in less than twenty-four hours.

"I'll miss you if you go." Bucky said glumly. "I won't be able to take it anymore. I need you so badly, and if you aren't here then I can't do this anymore. I'll kill myself and everyone will be happy."

"No one would be happy if you killed yourself, Bucky; least of all me."

"So you will leave. You'll go back to that liar."

"I didn't say that." Loki squeezed Bucky's hands reassuringly. "I'll stay here with you, and you will get better. I have every faith and hope that you will."

Relief gradually flooded Bucky's face, which unearthed his natural beauty. Even with his hair standing at end and his blood shot eyes, Bucky was beautiful to him. No one could even compare, not even Tony in his well-tailored business suits and his stylish facial hair. No, Bucky was as close to perfect as anyone could ever be.

"You're hungry, aren't you? I'll get you something to eat. I'll make you something." Bucky beamed at him; struck by enthusiasm that hadn't been seen in days.

Loki allowed Bucky to slip free of his grip and watched as he gestured explosively and wildly; hundreds of words falling out of his lips at a rapid pace. All sorts of food words, some much too elaborate for Bucky to even make; filled the air and that somehow caused a smile to tug at Loki's lips.

Tony hadn't ever cooked for him; he had a personal chef on his payroll and used him as much as possible, seeing as they could barely leave the penthouse without being accosted. No one had any sense of boundaries when it came to them. Not even the social circles that they attempted to mingle with did either.

"Oh, by the way," Bucky had paused in between suggesting spaghetti and Cap 'N' Crunch for their meal. "You don't have to call me Bucky anymore. You can call me by my name; my real name. You can call me James."

Fear and pleasure suddenly struck Loki from all sides. He didn't know why, but there was something intimate about knowing his captor's real name. It felt like a point of no return; as if he closed the book on one chapter of his life, before turning the page to another.

If he chose to refer to Bucky as anything else than that, Loki suspected he'd never go home; he'd never find a way to leave. His life with Tony would be officially over and done with. Any hope of rescue or escape would be dashed, and he would have to accept the fact he'd stay in this apartment with Bucky forever; chained to the madness.

"You know I would love some cereal, James."

He made his decision.


	17. Chapter Sixteen :: Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the positive feedback on the last chapter. I wasn't sure if anyone cared about this story, so that was a pleasant surprise. :DD

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**Chapter Sixteen :: Tony**

 

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Phil Coulson was a nondescript sort of man. He was the type of person that could easily blend into a crowd without any recognition one way or another. But maybe that was an asset in his type of work. Tony didn't know nor did he exactly care that much either to be honest.

What really mattered to him was if this simple looking man had any news on Loki's whereabouts. He had been sent out to collect information several days beforehand, and Tony hoped there was a new development on Loki's disappearance already. Even more so now, since that awful encounter with Thor two days before; which had ended as he feared it would.

As much of a surprise it was for Thor to find Pepper in the penthouse, Tony had felt similarly when she appeared without warning. She still had the authority to override JARVIS, so she had retained the element of surprise and taken him off guard during his endless moping around. And he had been certain she had come to gloat about his misfortune, but he had been wrong.

Pepper had wanted to extend an olive branch to him. He didn't know why Pepper had chosen that opportunity to do so; however he wasn't convinced it wasn't done maliciously. After spending well over a decade with one another, he knew her well enough to figure out her intentions right away.

There was no doubt about the fact that Pepper harbored hatred towards him and Loki. She had proven as much by become a regular on the media circuit, after the affair had been splashed across the front pages of every periodical a world over. But even Pepper wouldn't be tickled pink by the realization that Loki's disappearance wasn't fodder for a tabloid headline.

They had spoken at length about what had happened the day of Loki's disappearance, and Pepper had been nothing but sympathetic about it. She even offered to help in the search efforts if she could, which spoke volumes to Tony about the kind of person she really was and had been ever since he met her.

By no means were bridges repaired and feelings mended; Tony had plenty of issues with what Pepper had done. The tell-all book had been completely unnecessary and downright defamatory. At one point, he had wanted to launch a civil suit against her, although his attorneys wisely veered him away from that decision; and that proved to be the right choice in the end.

The media circus was already unbearable on an average day, but if he had decided to sue Pepper then all hell would have definitely broken loose. Not only for him either; Loki too would have been hit by the shrapnel. That happened more often than not because he was the supposed harlot that had broken up New York's "power couple".

"Did you find out anything of yet?" Tony finally asked, as he slouched miserably against the sofa cushions in his penthouse. "Or are you just checking in to reassure me that you're actually working on finding my partner?"

Phil Coulson smiled kindly at him; it was only a quirk of his lips, but it somehow eased the tension in Tony's gut. He hoped that smile meant something good; maybe he had finally found a lead on Loki's whereabouts that unfortunate night, and maybe he found out about whose company Loki had been in during that time too.

"It's a work in progress, Mr. Stark. Progress can sometimes take time." Coulson said in a soft tone, almost as if he was speaking to a child instead of a man that was paying his agency a small fortune.

"You're right, progress does take time. But we don't have any time to spare!" He couldn't help but raise his voice. "Loki's out there somewhere, possibly being tortured to death; and you have the gall to tell me progress takes time?"

"I understand your desperation, Mr. Stark. I wish I could tell you I found out anything of substance as of yet, but I haven't. That doesn't mean I won't continue diligently working for an answer for you."

"What the hell have you been doing? Because you have had close to a week to find something out and you're telling me you found out nothing so far?"

"I didn't say that, no." Coulson folded his hands behind his back; still wearing that sympathetic smile on his face. "In fact, I've visited various bars in the immediate vicinity, and I've spoken to a dozens of people already. The unfortunate thing is that one of the people tending bar during the night of Mr. Odinson's disappearance has gone on holiday, and will not be back for another three days. Hence, why I haven't anything substantial for you at this time,"

Fury rushed through every inch of Tony's body. It wasn't directed at any one person, though. He was angry that any of this was happening and that one of the only people who might have a lead on Loki was on vacation right now and was living it up. He was angry that he had to suffer from all the stress and fear that he was currently living through. And there wasn't any end in sight; it seemed like he was living in a reoccurring nightmare.

He promised the Odinson family that he would find Loki. Everything he was currently doing was for the benefit of finding him. But nothing seemed to be working; holding a press conference only led to false leads, criticizing the police chief hadn't garnered any interest from the local precinct, and now hiring a private investigative team wasn't working either. What else could he possibly do in order to find Loki?

"Can't you track this person down and question them?" He asked in a strained voice.

"Possibly, but the time it would take to locate them would be longer than just waiting for them to return. From what I understood the gentleman in question went to Italy; so you see where the problem lies."

"Have you've checked some surveillance footage or anything? There has to be some kind of camera in that bar!"

"Well, yes there was a security system. Unfortunately, the footage is recorded over after forty-eight hours. Any footage of Mr. Odinson was lost a long time ago." Coulson explained. "Our best bet will be this potential witness. After all the other employees mentioned on regularly seeing Mr. Odinson when he's been visibly upset. So I believe he must have gone there the night of his disappearance."

Tony let out a bark of laughter. How many times had he and Loki argued to the point where bar employees noticed Loki beyond the media scrutiny focused on him day in and day out? It must have been a far greater number than he originally believed it to be. And that made him feel very sick.

It was because of him that Loki was gone; vanished like a wisp of smoke. This nightmare was attributed solely to him, and he would feel guilty for the rest of his life. Because he could have prevented all this heartache somehow; he could have appeased Loki and made him stay, and they could have had a levelheaded discussion on why marriage was not a solution to their problems. He could have done something beyond scream and shout and antagonize the man he loved. He could have done so much more.

"My life has turned upside down; this is the second time in two years that my life has spiraled out of control. And you would think I'd be used to that, Coulson. But no, no I am not." Tony sunk further into the sofa cushions with a grim expression. "The first time, at least, I had Loki to rely on. He was my rock, you know. Even when the media was beating the shit out of him; he was the one holding me upright. He's everything to me, and I'm not going to lose him. Do you understand me?"

"I certainly do, Mr. Stark. We are following every lead that we can. Rest assured, Mr. Fury and Miss Romanoff are equally dedicated to the cause. We will find Mr. Odinson one way or another; you have my word."

"My question's this – will you find him alive?" He asked.

For the first time since they've been acquainted, Coulson looked hesitant and even a little uncomfortable too. Tony didn't know the statistics on missing persons; he did know that missing children are presumed dead after twenty-four hours of being taken, though. So how different could it be in cases involving adults?

"The longer someone has been missing; the likelihood that they'll be found alive diminishes. That's not to say people haven't beaten the odds. And in this case, I'm choosing to be optimistic. You should do the same thing, Mr. Stark. There's no reason to think grim thoughts when we haven't exhausted every avenue as of yet." Coulson said delicately.

"What's your gut feeling, Coulson? You aren't a stupid man; you've been in this business long enough to know what's what. So do you believe Loki's alive or not?" Tony managed to keep his emotions at bay, but that didn't mean he wasn't falling apart on the inside.

With each passing day, a piece of his hope was chiseled away. No matter how hard he tried to keep the faith; he was hit by roadblock after roadblock; disappointment after disappointment. He wanted to believe Loki was in a hospital somewhere, temporarily struck by amnesia. Hell, he only wished Loki had run off with a personal trainer or cabana boy. But he knew better; he knew Loki too well.

There wasn't any way that Loki would want to marry him if there was someone else in his life. Regardless of what anyone said about him, Loki was faithful and loving and devoted only to Tony. The one likely to cheat in their relationship was Tony not him; never him.

"Optimism is my strong point, Mr. Stark."

"I don't want your optimistic bullshit right now, okay. I want your honest opinion. I know you've seen some really ugly shit while working with the FBI. So level with me here and tell me the truth – what do you think happened to Loki?"

"Honestly, most missing people weren't even missing at all." Coulson leveled Tony with a hardened, business-like stare. "They're normally found. Or they return of their own volition; sometimes they fall on hard times, become addicted to drugs, or simply want to start anew. However, there are cases when something violent has happened; sometimes there isn't any valid proof of that, but the telltale signs are there.

"Seeing as Mr. Odinson is a high profile individual, there are only two scenarios in my mind that could have caused his disappearance. The first being that he left on his own accord; maybe the heat from the media was too much for him to bear of late, hence why he decided to leave. But the second scenario is bleaker; again because he does have a high profile, he could have been taken by someone. The motive is clearly not money, though; which leads me to believe the motive was a violent one instead."

"In other words, you think he's dead."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. But in my professional opinion I do not believe we will find Mr. Odinson alive. He's been missing for almost a month already. And if he had been seen in any capacity, we would have had a solid lead by now."

"You think he's dead, but you're trying to be fucking optimistic?" Tony croaked, before he shut his eyes tightly. "What kind of oxymoron bullshit is that?"

"I've been proven wrong in the past, you know. That's why I always try to remain optimistic, despite my gut instinct." Coulson admitted. "You haven't been exposed to the things I have, Mr. Stark. That's why you need to hold onto your hope for as long as you can."

"Yeah, hope." He managed to say, although his throat was threatening to close up entirely.

No matter how hard he tried to convince himself there would be a happy ending in the future, Tony had somehow started to believe otherwise. Coulson's admission was just another nail in the coffin for him. It was just another chink in his armor.

They were chasing a ghost. Loki had had to be dead by now, and it was all Tony's fault.


End file.
